


Untimely Reveals

by aceofhearts88



Series: Howling at the Stars [17]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arthur and Robert come face to face, King's Landing, Red Keep, Starfall, a lie gets created to keep Jon safe in the open
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-01-22 08:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 70,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12477436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceofhearts88/pseuds/aceofhearts88
Summary: Ned Stark travels South after the fall of House Lannister and finds himself a little too comfortable while talking with his best friend and his former foster father. With the mistake made, Ned rides for Starfall to hash out a plan for Arthur's and Jon's future safety.In the light of Ned's fuck up and begrudgingly accepting the necessity for a bittersweet lie, Arthur's time as a dead man is over and he travels to King's Landing to face the King. And some other friends and foes as well.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> And the plot commences.  
> Some questions that popped up in comments of the other works so far will be answered here.  
> Just because we got rid of the foul Lannisters doesn't mean Robert loses power, a new Queen will have to be found.

“Elbow back, Jon.”

Arthur looked up again from where Edric was playing with the wooden figurines at his feet, sitting as Arthur was on a bench at the side of Starfall's training yard. He saw Benjen kneeling down to correct Jon's hold on the sword, wooden of course but Jon's pride and joy and seemingly on the list of his favourite things now.

Benjen had carved a small dragonhead into the hilt for him, Arthur saw nothing suspicious in it, enough little boys were obsessed with dragons and knights of old, even now. Torrhen had gotten a growling wolf onto the wooden sword that had been brought over from Volantis, by no doubt Torrhen's most precious belonging for him.

“If you keep your elbow lower, you can strike out better, Jon.” Benjen explained and guided Jon's hand with the sword for a few swings, Jon followed it with attentive eyes. “Now, see? It feels better, hm?” Jon nodded and then Benjen sent him back to try his luck against Torrhen. Both boys waited until Benjen gave the word and then they attacked, playing and having fun while learning, usually the easiest way to get a lesson across.

“He's good.” Andric commented as a he sat down beside him, hand holding a scroll, “You can see the raw talent there, but I'm not surprised. No matter how reluctant Rhaegar was to be a warrior, he was a great fighter.”  
“Lyanna was better.” Arthur mused quietly, blindly grabbing the dog Edric pushed into his hands, his eyes not leaving Jon and Torrhen, “Or with proper training and some more time, she could have been better than him. She had real raw talent, an eye for it and certainly the drive. She wanted to be a warrior, Rhaegar saw it as his duty.” He explained and winced when Torrhen caught Jon against his leg.

Jon scowled at him in response, holding still until Torrhen mumbled an apology. He was better in that as everyone else, one look from deeply disapproving eyes and Torrhen was obeying, not even Ashara had that hold over her son.

It was too early to tell if Jon were to come after either parent, he certainly had made the decision to learn the sword out of his own interest and not because some prophecy dreams had told him to, and contrary to his mother, Jon would get the best training there was if he wanted. One thing was clear though, no matter how much talent Jon definitely showed, Torrhen was always steps ahead of him and it wasn't only due to the one year he had ahead of Jon in age.

Torrhen was pure talent for the sword, and despite his often wandering attention, he could already show a stubborness and determination in training that Arthur only knew too well from his own childhood. With the difference that once training was called to an end, Torrhen was running off to explore somewhere and didn't stay behind to work some more.

“He's gonna be a knight.” Andric chuckled when Torrhen showed off some parrying move that Jon hadn't learned yet. “One that mothers warn their daughters of but a knight nonetheless. And you should stop sitting here and go over there instead. What do you think they'll later have in stories about this time, learned how to properly wield a sword by the Sword of the Morning himself. Not a lot of people your age can say that they helped a father and son in their training.”

Arthur smiled about his brother's words, remembering days where he had been standing with Rhaegar in the training's yard of the Red Keep, white cloaks watching them, wanting to go careful but also being prodded by his best friend to push him harder so he could get better. Or years later, being needled by Lyanna into giving her lessons, being so careful with her until he realized her potential.

Handing his nephew's figurine to Andric, Arthur went to his feet and stretched, only then remembering the scroll his brother had brought with him. “What's in that?” He wanted to know and Andric smiled, rolling it out for Arthur to see.

“We're getting a Northern visit. Ned is travelling to King's Landing and will come to Starfall after that before going back North again, he's bringing his son along.”

\--

Later after chasing the boys off to get clean and bathed before supper, Arthur walked into the main family sitting room among the loud cries of the youngest member of their family. 

“Oh now, why are we singing so loud again?” He wondered out loud with a smile, eager hands reaching out to take the screaming babe from his sister's hands, bouncing the little girl a little in her soft grey blanket. Greyish lilac eyes blinked up at him as the babe's screams quietened down until all that was left were some sniffles, “Now, you were just missing your favourite uncle, right?” He wanted to know, grinning and nuzzling his niece who quickly began to giggle.

“You are a saint.” Allyria sighed and sat down on the divan, leaning back and closing her eyes, “She's been fussy all day already. Hasn't slept last night at all either.” Ashara patted her sister's hand from where she was cutting purple fabric to make more small dresses. Arthur smirked and bounced little Alysanne a little more, moving over to the windows.

“She comes after you then.” Andric commented as he stepped into the room, Edric following him, already clean and dressed for supper, Allyria opened her eyes again to scowl at her oldest brother, “Always wanting attention and never settling down. Father always said you screamed loud enough to be heard down in the harbor.”

“You're only saying that because your little one is already sleeping through the night.” Allyria complained and Andric grinned, shifting his daughter higher in his arms, little Eleana Dayne was only two moons older than her cousin but way quieter and more content. The castle had surely become more lively in recent moons, as beautiful as the Water Gardens were and as peaceful as being there had been, Ashara and Arthur had felt the pull to really go home.

So now, there they were, back home at Starfall, kept on their toes by three boys and three little girls.

Eyrin entered the sitting room with Rhaena at her side not long after Andric had sat down next to Allyria, Edric climbing up to cuddle with his exhausted aunt. “Show them what you learned today, Rhaena.” Eyrin prodded a bit as she sat down next to Ashara with a sigh, the days were long as a Lady of the castle when you had a babe of under six moons to take care of as well.

Rhaena, already the beautiful little lady, walked into the middle of the room and grabbed the sides of her blue skirts. She dipped into a perfect curtsy and smiled all proud when she straightened up again and was met with beaming smiles and clapping.

“That was beautiful, sweetheart.” Ashara praised her daughter and opened her arms to catch Rhaena when she ran over, “That was perfect of you, my sweet.” Arthur chuckled and looked down at his niece again, tickling a kicking foot, thinking back to days where Jon had been this small if never as temperamental and demanding as his newest cousin. Now the boy was six, read his stories mostly himself, could ride a pony and was learning the sword.

Time was running by so fast.

And speaking of Jon, the boy just then walked into the room, Meraxes following like the obedient little shadow she could be. Thorren hurried after him just a second later, and if it hadn't been for Benjen coming up behind him and clapping a hand over that mouth that sometimes just wouldn't stop running, Andric's announcement would have had to wait longer still.

“We're gonna get visitors soon.” Andric began, smiling into the round, Arthur crouched down when Jon came over to look at his cousin, he was way more interested in the babies than Thorren who was not impressed by their crying. “Ned wrote. He's travelling to King's Landing, I'm assuming to stand by the King in this difficult time. And where he is already South, he will travel further to Starfall to stay with us for a moon. And he's bringing his son along.”

The news was met with cheers and smiles.

\--

At the end of the day, wanting to tuck Jon into bed like he still did every night, Arthur found said little wolf still very much caught into his playing. He stopped in the open door of the bedchamber that Jon had for himself right down the corridor from Arthur's own rooms, keeping silent watch over the boy jumping on the bed except of already lying in it.

What choked him up was very much what Jon was doing aside from jumping.

Wearing Rhaegar's cloak around his neck with a clumsy knot of the top ends, constantly in risk of tripping over the bottom end. His right hand held the wooden sword that he was supposed to keep in the chest when there was no training. Around his neck the locket bopped up and down with his jumps, while on the ground Meraxes was watching him, swishing her tail back and forth, wooden dragons flying over left and right.

“Crush the enemies, Mexes!” Jon cheered her on and Arthur shuddered with the emotions crashing over him just then, heart squeezing so painfully good. It hurt, and it was so wonderfully amazing as well.

'Look at my little wolf' He could imagine Lyanna laugh, 'Look at my fearless little warrior.' She would praise him. Rhaegar would laugh, too, and then immediately ask to join Jon's battle, asking which dragons and Blackfyre pretenders they were fighting against.

Only...they were gone. 

They were gone and Arthur was standing here alone, taking a deep breath to calm his heart again before letting the smile take over the faint grief.

“How is the battle going, little dragonrider?” He asked after another moment and Jon yelped in surprise, dropping down onto the bed and pulling his blanket over himself as if that could in any way keep Arthur from knowing what he had been up to.   
“We won.” Jon explained with a bright grin but quiet voice, pointing a hand at the fallen over dragons and soldiers on the ground, Meraxes sitting among them, sleepier than Jon. “We won but Meraxes had to pretend to be Vhagar.”

“Oh, I see.” Arthur noted as he stepped into the room, “You gonna need to tidy that up before bed, little wolf. And that sword and cloak need to go back in the chest as well.” Jon nodded and scrambled out of bed again, laying his sword onto it so he could remove the cloak. Arthur grabbed it to fold it together quickly before handing it back to Jon.

Jon had his order, everything was sorted into his chest with a system. Arthur had noted that behavior with heart warming amusement in Volantis already, because it was something Jon could have only picked up from him. The wooden figurines got into the toy chest first, all placed how he wanted them, then came the cloak, the stitchings always on the inside to protect it, and then on top the sword.

Done with it, Jon pushed the chest close and turned around with a smile, a yawn taking over finally before he could speak. He stretched out arms and Arthur picked him up with a chuckle, soon enough he would even be too heavy to do that so easily as it was now. He tucked Jon under the covers and then let Meraxes use him as a climbing pole to get up on the bed instead of taking one of the bedposts.

“Papa?” Arthur hummed in reply and crouched down next to the bed, Jon turned his face to look at him, “Did I ever meet Uncle Ned?”  
“Once.” Arthur began and had to swallow heavily when memories of those days threatened to overwhelm him in light of already heightened emotions. “You were barely a day old, and so tiny. Your Uncle Ned will be very proud over how much you have grown.” Jon grinned, happy about it, “And now you gotta sleep because only boys who sleep well can come riding with me tomorrow.”

Jon nodded again and Arthur leaned in to kiss his forehead, “Sleep well, my little wolf.” Violet eyes were drooping already by the time Jon had mumbled his goodnights as well. Arthur stood up again and killed the oil lamp on the wall, he went to the door and remained there for a moment longer.

He wondered if Ned's visit would bring along the questions that Arthur was dreading and hoping for at the same time. Torrhen had caught on at about the age that Jon was now, had asked after his father and just why his mother was calling him her wild wolf. Jon hadn't asked anything so far, and it worried Arthur a little, because Jon's head was usually even quicker to catch onto things than his cousin.

So why hadn't he asked after his mother? Was he afraid to ask?

Why did he never ask why Arthur had a black cloak with a three headed dragon in his belongings?

Or was he by some chance just so content and happy that he didn't care?

Questions like that kept him up at night sometimes and it seemed this night wouldn't be one with easy sleep either. So instead of venturing right into his bedroom to continue reading that book on the history of Kings of Winter that Benjen had given him in preparation of Jon coming forward with questions, Arthur turned the other way and walked down the corridor to the staircase again.

After telling the guards where to find him in case Jon woke up and went in search of him, Arthur made his way down to the feasting hall where he knew he would find some company to lighten the heaviness of his heart and mind. As he did so often, Andric was right among his men to drink some and talk, the table in the middle where he sat filled with Carral and Richard for now, Arthur guessed that Benjen was happy to get sleep when he could grab it.

Alysanne really was a terror.

“Hey,” Andric greeted him and kicked out a chair, Arthur gratefully sank down into it with a sigh, accepting the cup of whatever that Richard filled him, “You okay?” Instead of immediately answering, Arthur shugged back the cup and then grimaced over the sharp taste of it, Richard sent him a grin. Moonshine then, wonderful.

\--

“So, what do you think, son?” Ned asked and looked down at his son's face, laughing when Robb's scrunched up nose and eyebrows showed perfectly well what his firstborn was thinking about at the sight that greeted them.  
“It's big.” Robb began after a short moment, face still unhappy, “Really big.” He added, still staring down at King's Landing where it laid below them.

Ned had stopped his horse on top of the hill on purpose, needing a moment to take in the sight of the city that he had last seen when his sister had still lived. He wasn't looking forward to this part of their trip down South, but it was necessary after recent events.

And he knew that he would only have to think of where their path would lead them after their stint at the capital. Starfall and family would make up for the hell that was King's Landing and the Red Keep.


	2. Part I - A Wrong Name

“You're quiet.”

Dark grey eyes looked ahead at the man sitting on the chair outside on a balcony right off the King's solar, overlooking a courtyard. 

“And I can't believe I'm the one saying that about you.” Ned grumbled and Robert gave a short laugh before he turned away from staring down at the courtyard to face his best friend again. “Look, you've gotten played, you figured it out, you got rid of the problem, now stop sulking.”

“That's easy for you to say.” Robert finally spoke up, rumbling noise of his voice still missing though, “You have a wife who is not plotting to take over your seat. You are not being nagged about an heir because you have one.” Both of them looked over to Robb who was playing with the new additions to his wooden figurines collection that Robert had gifted him, “A strong lad to one day become Lord of Winterfell. A beautiful daughter to strengthen ties to other houses. I have neither.”

“You are seven and twenty, Robert, not two and seventy, you got a lot of time to get both yet.” Ned tried to sound comforting but knew he was failing when Robert's gaze didn't leave Robb's happy face. “Why do you want an heir so badly suddenly? Or a wife? You've never been interested in that before. You married Cersei because it brought you allies. You're probably gonna marry another woman who hands you political stability. If you want children to dote on, there are a hand full of bastards who would certainly be glad to know their father.”

“You still judge me on it.” Robert looked back at him, “You judged me for it. You always did. And now the whole realm knows that Brandon...”  
“Brandon is dead. I cannot judge my brother for something he never even knew about.” Ned didn't really rise to the occasion and Robert frowned a little. “You knew Brandon, Robert, you knew how he was with children. Out of all of us he was the one who wanted children the most, and I can assure you that wasn't because he was the oldest. Had he known that he got Lady Ashara with child, he would have ridden South. For her.”

“He was betrothed.”

“Brandon loved Ashara. And father would have brokered the betrothal with Catelyn from him to me if he had known that he could bind the North to Dorne. Southern ambitions, you remember how Jon called it, can't get any more South than Dorne. And he was always a little more inclined to give Brandon what he wanted anyway.” Ned grouched maybe a little in the end. If it had been any other case, Lord Rickard would have maybe listened to Benjen for longer than a fleeting second and he wouldn't have gotten himself killed in this very city.

But Brandon was always the chosen one, the one who could do nothing wrong and ended being the one who did so much wrong.

“What was the name of the boy again?” Robert wanted to know, smile curling into a bright grin when Robb skipped over to them and shoved off a mounted soldier with a stag helm to him.  
“Torrhen. If the letters are correct, he's gonna be as much trouble as Brandon ever was. I hope Dornish houses keep their daughters close in the future.” Ned chuckled and then watched how Robb lured Robert into telling him a story.

Would he kill this boy's cousin for the other half of his blood? Would he truly still harbor so much hatred in himself? Even for Lyanna's son? Even for a child of her blood?

It would probably haunt him forever that question, because he wouldn't dare ask Robert to get an answer.

\--

The throne room of the Red Keep.

The last time his feet had carried him into this very hall on his own accords, he had found Jaime Lannister sitting on the Iron Throne, his sword still dripping with the blood of the Mad King. It had forever set the tone for the opinion he had of the younger man, and even though everyone could see now that Ser Jaime of the Kingsguard was trying to attone for his acts and the crimes of his entire family, Ned remained distrustful of Jaime Lannister.

And he was more than glad that according to Robert, the golden lion had ridden out into the Kingswood for a few days.

The next thing that assaulted his senses was the charred black spot on the ground and he stopped next to it to sent a quick prayer to the old gods for his father and older brother. He had sworn to not come back, to not return to King's Landing for anything, to never return to memories that pained him from the inside out until he couldn't breathe anymore.

But here he was. 

Right back in the place he hated most. Just because he had mentioned in a letter moons ago that he was to travel South to meet Benjen's soon to be born daughter, and Robert had grabbed the chance to invite him to court. In the light of recent events, Ned couldn't have said no.

A fallen Queen. Ashamed and fallen Lord of the Rock. 

Cersei Lannister was waiting out a pregnancy in the halls of the Faith before she was to join the Silent Sisters in Oldtown. And Lord Tywin was sitting down in the dungeons of the Black Cells, awaiting accusations and a trial, none of which seemed to be in any hurry to come forward.

Ned felt a certain sense of satisfaction in knowing that proud Tywin Lannister was rotting his time away in a black cell. 

'He ordered those children killed. He blindly accepted the rape and murder of Princess Elia.'

Ned was someone who condemned torture, justice was important, justice had to be dealt swiftly and without letting someone suffer in the end. For Lord Tywin though he hoped the end would drag on and on, until all ghosts had time to haunt him to insanity.

It was Tywin's orders to kill innocent babes. It was him who had two cloaked murdered babes laid out in front of the Iron Throne while Robert was still high on his victory. It were Tywin's orders that ended up with Ned riding for Dorne with a stomach still turning and his eyes still burning with the blood soaked cloaks.

Not knowing that only a few weeks later, he would see his sister barely being able to hold a child who would join his half-siblings soon if they didn't do anything.

Six years on and Jon and Arthur were back in Westeros.

And Ned Stark was standing back in the throne room of the Red Keep.

He had arrived the day before, quite late and had only wanted to be settled into his rooms, especially because Robb had been asking for food and at the same time been already half asleep. This morning Rodrik had promised to show Robb around and keep him entertained, Ned was glad to have Brandon's oldest friend with him on this journey. As much as Rodrik despised the Red Keep and what it stood for, Ned was glad to have him along and keeping an eye on Robb while Ned could deal with his own best friend. 

After leaving Robert, he had wandered the corridors for an hour before making his way to the throne room to be there when the small council ended so he could greet Jon properly. He was in luck and the door of the small council chamber opened just a few moments after he had ripped himself away from memories too unpleasant to dwell on.

He did not know all men who stepped out, Jon and Robert had sifted through court like children did with the mud of the Trident to find rubies – Ned had fallen prey to Robb's pleading eyes as well and to his own horror Robb had even found two that were kept wrapped in half a dozen shirts at the bottom of Ned's chest and hopefully Arthur wouldn't strangle him when he handed them over – and many men and women had been sent packing or even down into the cells if their loyalty was found questionable or downright betrayed.

Ned still hoped he would be able to convince Jon to send some of those men North to join the Watch, Mormont was asking for new recruits.

It was a young man who stepped out at the side of Lord Varys that wiped all preceeding thoughts from Ned's head and had him breathless in shock. Pale silver blond hair falling freely down his shoulders, his clothes as black as coal from neck to boots, one hand twirling a black captain's hat around as he talked with the Master of Whispers.

It was like looking at a ghost.

The ghost of a man whom Ned had seen die.

“Ned!” 

Turning away from the appearance of the young man now turning to talk with Ser Barristan, Ned smiled at his former foster father and gratefully returned the warm embrace. “Gods, it's good to see you, lad.”  
“Likewise. You don't look half as old as your letters makes you seem.” Ned offered and laughed when Jon slapped his arm, the gesture attracted the attention of the other men in the throne room. Where most others quickly looked away again, the young man with the silver blond hair did linger his gaze a little longer on them before he gave his full attention back to the Kingsguard Commander. 

“Ah.” Jon must have immediately caught onto the interest in Ned's face, still knew him way too good the old man, “Yes, yes, surely looking quite like him, doesn't he? He knows it for certain, likes to stir up Robert's mood at times.” Jon sighed in half amusement, half annoyance, nodding for Ned to follow him from the wall, they were tailed by two Arryn guards in pale blue cloaks.

“Who is he?” Ned wanted to know, there were a few families of Valyrian blood left in Westeros, all of whom had bend the knee to Robert and sworn fealty.  
“Lucerys Velaryon's bastard son.” Jon explained to him as they walked towards the great courtyard to cross over to the Tower of the Hand, Ned wasn't surprised to hear the House name, “Aurane Waters. He's the leading Captain in our fleet, worked himself up to being Stannis' right hand man. Aurane sits in on small council sessions now, Stannis refuses to return to court. Again.”

“Disagreements with Robert?”

“Painfully so.” Jon admitted, sending Ned a look that spoke of how tired he was, having been played by the Lannisters had left its marks on Ned's former foster father, “Both of them are more stubborn than you and Robert ever were.”  
“Stannis didn't want Dragonstone.” Ned reminded Jon of why tension had started in the first place. And who could blame Stannis Baratheon, who would want the dreary castle that stood for Targaryen rule like nothing else in Westeros. “Stannis wanted Storm's End.”

But Robert gave it to Renly. A child. Ned could understand Stannis' ire.

“As long as there is no child, Stannis is the heir and the heir gets Dragonstone.” Jon made clear, his tone showing that there was no room to argue, Ned had always understood an order when there was one, Robert had seen Jon's words more as guidelines that needed to be challenged at times. “Now come, you wrote that you would take Robb, I want to meet your boy.”

\--

“Lord Stark?”

Ned stopped Robb and turned around, he caught sight of Ser Barristan Selmy walking towards him in leather armor and brown cloak, no white one for once, the only sign of noble status was the neatly polished sword on the old worn leather belt under the ratty cloak.

“Ser Barristan, I did not expect to see you away from the king today.” Ned began with a slight frown but nevertheless shook the hand that was offered to him. And then smiled upon the wide eyed stare of Robb when the great knight offered his hand to him as well, Robb shook it after a small pause, in complete trance.  
“King Robert has ordered me to accompany you down to the city, my Lord. He has the knights of the Vale and Ser Harry to attend to him.” Ser Barristan explained and Ned sighed over Robert's insistence, Ned was still very much capable of handling his son's safety and his own, especially when Rodrik was around.

With said man he exchanged a look but Rodrik simply shrugged his shoulders and offered his hand to the Kingsguard as well. 

They went down Aegon's High Hill and Robb was left to decide what he wanted to see, dragging Rodrik along over the market, left and right from stand to stand. Giving Ned a chance to talk with the Kingsguard Knight.

“She is well.” He mentioned casually a while after conversation had went everywhere but there, Ser Barristan threw him a confused look, obviously not following, further down the cobbled road Robb was pointing at the Sept of Baelor and telling something to Rodrik.

“Pardon, my Lord?”

“Lady Ashara.” Ned clarified and Ser Barristan froze for a short moment before he continued walking, “She is well and as far as I can tell by letters and my own brother's words she is happy as well. The children bring her much joy.”  
“I was surprised to hear about children. The last I had heard is Princess Elia telling me about a stillborn daughter.” Ser Barristan told him and Ned winced, fully aware on why Andric had spun the lie, a stillborn daughter or even a daughter of Brandon's had not been a danger to anyone, but a bastard son could always be used to challenge claims.

And Andric had only ever wanted to protect his family, Ned understood it well.

“Lord Andric chose a lie over placing his sister and her child into the hands of people who would harm the stability of the North. They are plenty, I fear.” Ned explained with a heavy heart, he knew very much that many of those voices had arisen because he had not been meant to hold Winterfell and he wasn't setting the same fear of disobeying into the hearts of those people than his father and Brandon had before him.

“Your brother's son then.” Ser Barristan caught on easily enough now and Ned nodded, blue eyes smiled just as much as lips did as Ser Barristan looked over children playing at the side of the road.  
“She named him Torrhen. After everything I was written and told so far the boy is as wild and charming as his parents ever were.” He sighed and Ser Barristan laughed, he had been one of the knights who had kept Brandon from snapping at Prince Rhaegar after the winter roses in Harrenhall, so he knew the Wild Wolf's temper.

“And the other? Robert mentioned children.” Ser Barristan inquired and Ned looked ahead for a moment, watching Rodrik pick up Robb so the boy could see better. Ned had finally spoken the truth to him on the road, with Jory left to guard Catelyn and Sansa in Winterfell, Rodrik had been the one confidant to trust in on the road. And Ned knew that this half lie he had created around Jon had to be explained before they got to Starfall, one look into the boy's face and it was clear it was Lyanna's, Benjen had written.

So now Rodrik knew the whole truth as well, and had taken it rather well.

“A girl.” He said and looked back to Ser Barristan who was still smiling. He had loved Ashara, too, Ned thought then, he had loved her, too and unlike Brandon he had been forced to see her daily for years knowing that he could never have her. “I fear the father is unknown, though you are welcome to join the circles of those who wonder about him. Ashara doesn't tell. What I know is that the girl counts three name days, is said to be very sweet and polite. Rhaena is her name, named in memory of the Prince.”

He was stopped from saying any more by Robb scurrying over to him and demanding they buy a pretty doll for his sister, but still, the knight standing next to them seemed like he had just for the moment forgotten the chaos at court and the pain of the last six years. It had been worth it. 

But, as Ned also found at the end of the day, it had felt like Ser Barristan had often wanted to ask him a question that had been left unspoken.

A name had been left unspoken.

\--

Writing letters was not Barristan's greatest skill. His family had long since become so distant that it hadn't been worth it to write letters, too stiff and superficial the content to bother with wasting ink on it.

His friends, those had been his sworn brothers, and they had been right along him in the capital, until they hadn't, and letters to the dead were not worth anything either. 

Now though he found himself sitting in the candlelight in the chamber of the Lord Commander in the White Sword Tower and found himself wanting to write a letter but the words wouldn't come. Instead he found himself wondering about the past again, maybe Jaime was right, maybe he was indeed growing old.

At Harrenhall, at the last day of jousting, there had been four riders left before the final tilt. Rhaegar had needed to go against Arthur which had set them both into such a splendid mood that even Arthur had nagged at the prince for once to better give up immediately. Barristan had been faced with Oswell's usual boasting confidence.

Four knights. Three Kingsguard and the Crown Prince. 

Ashara Dayne's flower crown had been almost secure to her already.

Arthur would not have ever dared to crown anyone else but his sisters, their ire was too feared by him but Allyria had been too young and had not come along with Lord Andric, so Ashara's crown it was then if her White Knight brother won. Oswell had been planning on crowning Ashara as well, either to rile up Arthur or in displeasure at his brother expecting Oswell to crown his own nieces.

Barristan had not spoken to Arthur about his plans, it wasn't like anyone in the Kingsguard hadn't already been expecting it. Ashara herself had been expecting it.

Three against one. The chances had stood well for the realm's most beautiful woman.

And the crown had gone to Lyanna Stark.

That he had known about Ashara's pregnancy in the first place was only due to finding her in tears a mere three days after they had arrived back in the capital after Harrenhall. She had been sitting in the Queen's garden, her brother had ridden out with the Prince to Summerhall, the gods alone knew why Rhaegar had seen the need for that trip in those tumultous times, Princess Elia had been abed with difficulties in her second pregnancy.

He had asked her if there was something he could do and Ashara hadn't answered for quite a few long torturous minutes.

'I'm with child.' She had sobbed then, 'I'm with child and it will not die.' She had confessed to him, looking at him with eyes that had been hopeless, 'And I want to go home.' He had not asked her about the child's father, rumors about Brandon Stark had been flying around Harrenhall already before the tourney had even ended.

So he sat with her, held her hand when Ashara had reached for it and let her cry against his shoulder until she had wanted to talk quite on her own. And then he had walked her back to Princess Elia's chambers, already knowing that he might not see her again anytime soon.

Barristan sighed and dipped the feather back into the ink, so far he hadn't come further than 'Dearest Ashara, I...'. Pathetic, truly pathetic. More than half a century on his bones and he couldn't write a single simple letter to a woman he had cared about.

Still cared about.

Still very much loved.

“Come on, they didn't call you bold for nothing, old man.”

\--

Jaime Lannister had hated Eddard Stark.

He had hated the man like he had hated no one else in the entire realm. The grand honorable Eddard Stark had stood before him in the great throne room of the Red Keep and looked at him as if Jaime was not worth more than the dirt under his boots anymore for having killed a mad man, for having saved the entire city from a sure horrible death.

Only to have the same supposedly morally perfect man ride off and kill the one man who was the only one who deserved to be called honorable.

He had raged when the news of Oswell's, Gerold's and Arthur's deaths had reached the Red Keep. Freshly freed from the Black Cells, Jaime had raged deeper and deeper with every content smile and every content laugh the Usurper King gave over the news of the battle at the Tower of Joy.

Grieving over his precious Lyanna as he was, Robert still had had enough foul in himself left to crown Ned Stark and the men he had taken with himself heroes of the realm for having killed the dragon's last supporters.

Jaime had barely been able to keep himself from stabbing another king in the back. Rhaegar, Rhaenys, Aegon, Elia. Myles, Richard. Jonothor, Prince Lewyn, Oswell, Gerold, Arthur. And thousand others. All of them had died because Robert Baratheon had been a child who had had his favourite toy taken away.

The same child who was sitting on the Iron Throne now.

The throne that should have been Rhaegar's, and Aegon's after him.

For weeks the anger had bitten itself into his heart and he had dreamed countless times about killing Robert Baratheon, about drawing it out, about making him feel all the death he had caused. All the pain that had followed his jealousy and his childish fury. What was one more king when they already called him Kingslayer?

How could he serve a man who praised his best friend to everyone who didn't run away fast enough even a year after the Rebellion had ended with Rhaegar's last breath in the waters of the Trident? Praised his best friend for a won battle that was no battle at all.

Battle at the Tower of Joy. Eight men riding to subdue three. It didn't matter how skilled three men were. Eight against three was no battle, it was slaughter, and still court celebrated Ned Stark as a hero. The victors wrote history indeed.

One day, Jaime had stopped being angry.

Weeks after his sister had become Queen, with Jaime standing second in the ranks of the Kingsguard below Barristan now, he had closed any and all emotions off. Almost all, the guilt remained, flared up by the nightmares again and again, but the rest he kept closed off.

And now? Six years after the end of the Rebellion and everything was different. Everything was so different. Richard was alive, Jaime had found a purpose in helping the smallfolk in the crown's name. His father's and his sister's foul games had been detected and made public, and they had gotten their due.

And Arthur might be alive.

The person who had told Jamie there was greatness in him might still be alive and Jamie still had a reason, a purpose to reach for that good inside of him again, to hold onto the hope that maybe one day he could truly be deserving of having been knighted by Arthur Dayne.

And his anger against Ned Stark turned into confusion. Mountains of confusion over why the man had obviously lied to his kingly best friend. 

What had happened at the Tower of Joy? And why had honorable Ned Stark not told the truth?

“Your mind is running off again, brother.”

Ripping himself out of his mind, Jamie looked down at Tyrion, his little brother the new Lord of Casterly Rock. Tyrion had an eyebrow raised where he had stopped them in a round-about in one of the gardens of the palace. Jaime had only this morning reluctantly returned from the Kingswood to court because his brother had arrived to say goodbye to their father, still no trial was set for Tywin Lannister but Tyrion wanted to get it over and done as soon as possible.

Jaime couldn't blame him.

Both of them had always only been puppets in Tywin's and Cersei's games. And as much as it hurt to lose a father and a sister, it didn't hurt to lose Tywin and Cersei, not after what they had done.

“Sorry.” He apologized, “Just a lot going on.” He evaded his brother's question, it wasn't that he didn't trust Tyrion, of course he did, but protecting him meant even more to Jaime than sharing worries. Tyrion already had enough fronts to worry about at the moment than to add his brother's secrets on top of it all. He had underestimated his little brother's observation skills though.

“Things you can't talk about or just won't talk about with me?” Tyrion wanted clarified and gestured for Jaime to start walking again.   
“Things that I still don't know how to deal with on my own to worry anyone else with my thoughts.” Jaime gave up in explanation and smiled when Tyrion huffed over his stubborness. Quickly though Tyrion turned serious, way too serious and glanced up at him again.  
“It's not about Father, right?” He wanted to know, mismatched eyes too grown up for his age of six and ten, “You know you did the right thing, Jaime.”

“It's not about Father, nor is it about Cersei.” Jaime pushed those accusations away from himself, he hadn't spent a single night feeling bad for what he had given up to Lord Arryn, nor had it ever felt like betrayal to his family. Tyrion was his family, and he hadn't betrayed Tyrion.  
“Lord Stark then?” Tyrion stepped into the open wound and Jamie scowled, “You surely look at the man as if you want him to drop dead on the spot.”

Not really. A dead Lord Stark meant Jaime wouldn't be able to hear the truth from him about that blasted fight at the Tower of fucking Joy.

“Or all this recent talk about the Daynes then? It's like no one can gossip about anything else anymore but our House's downfall and the mysterious reappearance of Ashara Dayne.” Tyrion snickered, and of course he sounded amused, the first one had not damaged him at all, the second had probably never been understood by him. Even Jaime who had been entranced by Cersei for years had seen just how unwordly beautiful Ashara Dayne had been, hells even Cersei had seen it, Tyrion had been too young.

“I don't know what you mean.”

“Oh, come on, do you want me to pretend that I haven't noticed how frazzled you've been ever since that Dornish visit years ago? Sure, I've been happy that you finally stopped purely existing and stepped back into who you were before this rebellion. Did something happen that you never told me about? What made you stop being so cold?”

“I was never cold.” Jaime protested, fighting down the urge to petulantly cross his arms over his chest, Tyrion snorted and didn't slow his steps.  
“Yes, you were, brother. You were cold and closed off.” Tyrion's assessment was unforgiving as always, blunt and honest, just like Jaime had always known him, “We could have placed a statue of you to guard King Robert and it would have felt more than you did. And looked prettier without a constant scowl as well.”

Jaime remained quiet then, looking out over the sea as they stopped at a viewpoint, Tyrion sat down on the low wall with a deep sigh.

“Come now, don't sulk. I understand you not wanting to tell me everything, every man is allowed his secrets, just don't think that you can't talk to me about it when you do want to.” Tyrion's voice washed over him and Jaime groaned, “Or I'll just weasel it out of you. Come on, tell me, brother. Otherwise I am forcing you back into the palace to glower some more at Lord Stark and his men.”

“You're impossible.” Jaime grumbled and sat down next to his brother, getting comfortable without putting too much of the white cloak into the dirt. “What I tell you now gets told to no one else.”

\--

“Delena Florent.”

Ned was convinced he made a good impression of a petrified man in shock as he stopped with only one foot into Jon's solar.

“Should I be concerned of some false accusations?” He asked after a moment's breathe, looking from Jon sitting behind his desk to Robert sitting by the fireplace, “I haven't heard that name in my entire life.”  
“Doesn't that surprise me at all.” Robert laughed and waved for Ned to sit down across from him, it felt like being ten again, sitting and quietly talking while Jon worked. Only they weren't green boys no longer but King of the Seven Kingdoms and Warden of the North, and Jon wasn't just Lord of the Eyrie anymore but a Hand of the King who needed to find him a new Queen.

Ned's head made that connection between a casually thrown out name and his person as he sat down in a chair. He had spent the majority of the day evading Lord Varys, being glowered at by a suddenly returned Jaime Lannister, being watched by Aurane Waters and being begged by Robb to go down to the city again.

The first thing had been solved by stepping into the Tower of the Hand, the second one had been solved by Lord Tyrion Lannister's arrival at court, the third one had been stopped by some matter in the harbor that had taken the Captain from Driftmark out of the Red Keep. And Ser Barristan had distracted Robb from sulking over not having been allowed to go anywhere outside Maegor's Holdfast by offering the boy to come down to the guard's courtyard with him.

“House Florent is not quite one of the Great Houses.” Ned recalled quietly what he knew about at least the last name, “They're of the Reach, are they not?”  
“At least one of you listened to your lessons then.” Jon said in reply and looked over to them, Robert scowled and Ned surpressed a smile, “House Florent is a Reacher House, yes. They are sworn to House Tyrell.” Jon began and Ned knew the beginning of a speech when he sounded like that, so he settled back and exchanged a deadpanning look with Robert over old memories.

Jon turned a page in his thick book, “There are no appropriate Great Houses with a daughter of marriable age who is not wedded or already betrothed and we are not going to call off any betrothals. I've had enough of that mess for the rest of my life.” Ned winced and saw how Robert's hand got curled into a fist on the armrest of his chair. Jon turned another page in the book and continued, “We also do not need a Queen in three to four years, we need one now. You have both heard what is being said about the smallfolk. Robert is not going to charm them in this life anymore. The Westerlands will not see another queen anytime soon. Taking a queen from the Stormlands with a Stormlander King would only cause cries of outrage from the other regions. Taking a Lady from the North would make us seem in too much favor of the North.”

Robert rolled his eyes, Ned knew he was certainly not really bothering with where his future bride was coming from. Robert still loved Lyanna, the only woman who could stand by his side and not lead an unhappy life was one who accepted it. Something a headstrong character like Cersei Lannister would have not been able to in a million years.

“The same argument can be made for my Vale, people would frown upon it. The Iron Islands are not something I will even look into, Balon Greyjoy is causing too much trouble already for our trading ships.” And then he looked at both of them again, “Dorne is not an option, we all know why. The Riverlands have no available daughters. The Crownland Houses have been tied to the throne again by the assigned Kingsguard members and the fact that they are providing the Royal Fleet now. And the only daughter of a highborn enough state is a Velaryon cousin, which would be inviting trouble into our halls.”

Another page got turned and Jon focused back on the book, Robert reached for the cup of wine.

“Which leaves us with the Reach. Lady Olenna is probably turning red in her fury right now that she married off her youngest a mere moon's turn before Cersei fell from grace. As it stands, the Tyrells will need to wait their turn, and we shall look for their sworn houses. We can rule out any and all Marcher Lords in the Reach, otherwise Dorne is gonna rebell for good.”  
“But Stannis is already married to a Florent.” Robert noted after a sip of his wine and then for whatever reason winced when Jon sent him a glare.

“What occasion do you think brought me to consider House Florent, Robert? How close were you to deflowering Delena Florent in your brother's marriage bed when the wine knocked you out?” Jon snarled a little quietly and Ned deadpanned at Robert who shrugged his shoulders at him.

'This man could have been married to your sister', his mind provided him in a growling sound, 'It could have been here sitting at a wedding feast while her husband, the king, fathered another bastard.'

“You are aware that by opening the throne to the Reach, you are inviting Olenna Tyrell into the game, are you not?” Ned offered as his reaction and Jon snorted, an usual sound from him.  
“I am not afraid of Olenna Tyrell, not after dealing with Tywin Lannister.” Jon clarified and closed the thick book with a loud thud, “Now, leave me alone, I have letters to write and you can talk somewhere else. We can take dinner together tonight and talk about some other pressing issues.”

\--

Robb was horribly bored in the capital, there were no other children around at court to play with and as amazing as his son found it to watch the Kingsguard and other knights spar, it couldn't hold the attention of a boy of six namedays for so long. 

Ned had comforted him with the promise that they would soon be on their way to Dorne, a few more days only, then he would have many other children to play with. And on the day where petition hearings were held, Ned took Robb down to the harbor, just the two of them walking through the city, giving Rodrik a day for rest. 

Taking a break in the warm sun, Ned leaned back against a banister down on the docks while Robb stared up at the ships that they were increasingly bigger and more plentiful than those the boy knew from White Harbor. One ship in particular had drawn Robb's attention, the vessel was by far the largest around, made from a particularly light colored wood so that it shone nearly white in the bright sun.

Pride of the Sea.

The flagship of the new Royal Fleet, finished only a three moons ago.

“She's a pretty one, isn't she?” The voice spoke up from his left and Ned turned to look when he didn't recognize it, the one it belonged to he recognized very quickly. His looks made him stand out, in the dark corridors and halls of the Red Keep and even more in the bright sun of the harbor in the Blackwater Bay.

Aurane Water's pale hair was more golden than silver in the sun, but so close as he was now one was not ought to look at his hair for long. The man who was a year older than Ned but seemed so much younger had eyes in an alluring shade of green.

“She certainly carries her name with reason.” Ned agreed and then held out his hand, “I believe we have not officially been introduced. Captain Aurane.”  
“Lord Stark.” Aurane greeted him back, shaking his hand brief but with a tight grip, “I must say I was surprised when your arrival was announced. People seemed to think you would never step back into King's Landing.”

As much as he looked like Prince Rhaegar from afar and still similar to him close by, as much as he played right into it with black clothing and open hair, the moment Aurane Waters opened his mouth you quickly realized that he was very much his very own character. His voice sharp as a breeze out in the Shivering Sea, none of the musical quality his very distant cousin had owned.

And he was very much blunt and noisy.

“I had sworn myself to not return to the Red Keep, that is true.” Ned admitted, narrowing his eyes a little at the Velaryon bastard who had turned his head to look over to Robb who was still gaping at the ship. “But sometimes circumstances shift and you have to break promises you made to yourself.”

“Hopefully not promises made to one's little sister as well.”

Ned froze upon Captain Aurane's words and then whirled around to face him, seagreen eyes were watching him, all calm and poised elegance.

“How did you know?” Ned growled out after a second's pause, hands curling into fists, temper flaring over the rational sense that he should just hear the man out. He had told himself to not even think about Jon while in the capital, to make double sure that no one would even be able to read a thought in his eyes.  
“Despite many people not understanding it, the Daynes are family, Lord Stark. My father's beloved younger cousin was Arthur's mother. I spent a lot of time with Rhaegar and Arthur at court, they were my friends. My father told me about Arthur and Jon a year back.” Aurane Waters explained without his voice edging anywhere close to something else but a quiet lure.

He could get loud, this man, his voice promised that, but he didn't.

“My promises to my sister are none of your business.” Ned snarled out, no more quiet wolf when it came to his family, he was a father now, he was an uncle, he had learned to growl.  
“They are when they include my own family. Arthur is my cousin, I don't care how many numbers I should add before that. For me it counts how I was raised to see him.” Aurane Waters began, voice getting a little harder as he turned to face Ned again, “I don't care what you think of me, I only care about protecting my family.”

“And you think by being here I am not doing the same?” Ned didn't know why he felt so attacked by this man who remained so utterly annoyingly calm.  
“I think that by being here you risk giving away information that could be used to hurt your family. And mine.” Captain Aurane clarified his intentions and Ned glared at him for good now, the nerve he had.

“I know how this game gets played.”

“No, you don't, but I'm not holding that against you.” Still not a bit louder, Captain Aurane just kept his poise about him, like not even a seastorm could bring him to falter in his goals. This was how Brandon must have felt as a child, wanting a good fight and argument but not getting one from always stoic Ned. “The Red Keep is the most dangerous unforgiving place in the Seven Kingdoms. People pull secrets out of you by simply asking after the weather.”

“I didn't know Crownland bastards played the game now as well.” Ned hit out against him but those unnatural seeming eyes just laughed.  
“When did we ever not play it?” Aurane Waters wanted to know with his lips pulling into a smirk that reminded Ned strangely of Lyanna, a girl who had known how confidence could work on others and what she could get from it. “Be mindful of what you say to whom, Lord Stark.”

“Be assured that I know how to handle King Robert.” Ned made it clear in a voice tightly controlled by the bubbling anger inside of him.  
“The king?!” Captain Aurane echoed with a confused frown marring his features then, his eyes blinking at Ned for a good long moment, “You think I'm worried about the king?”

“Who are you warning me of then with all this here now?” Ned let his own befuddlement shine through and blindly reached out when Robb leaned against his legs, pearing up at Aurane Waters with curious eyes.

“I am warning you of Lord Varys.”

\--

A fortnight after Ned had arrived in King's Landing, he found himself at a private dinner with Robert and Jon again. Jon's wife Lysa, Catelyn's sister and Robb's aunt had taken the boy to read him some stories and play with him until bedtime called for him, giving the men some time to talk. 

The only other people in the room with them were Ser Barristan and Ser Jaime, both of them standing a silent vigilant guard in a corner of the room. The Lord Commander was calm and quiet as usual, the golden lion seemed tired.

“How is the little one called again?” Robert wanted to know and Ned smiled, thinking back on the letter that had been brimming so much joy and pride, announcing the birth of the first girl of the newly established Dornish branch of House Stark. It hat felt like Benjen himself would jump out of those lines at any point to blubber about his daughter.

“Alysanne.”

“We should send a gift.” Robert decided and Ned laughed upon the casually drawn up eyebrow that Jon offered in reaction to it. It was almost astounding how Robert kept on being blind to Benjen's dislike of him, in the background even Ser Barristan looked a little surprised.   
“A gift? Well, “ Jon began as the awkward pause dragged on a little bit too long, “I'll be sure to ask Lysa to pick something for the youngest Stark.”

“Ask her to pick something for the Dayne children as well. I don't want them to think me petty.” Robert added and Ned blinked at him, really not knowing what to say to the fact that his best friend was just so utterly unaware of how much Dorne really hated him. “How many are there now? Including the bastards.”

“Four.” Almost, almost had Ned answered five, Jon slipping in automatically, “Lord Andric welcome a daughter just a few weeks before Lady Allyria gave birth to Alysanne. I do not recall her name right now. His son, Edric, is four.”  
“Tell me more about your brother's bastard. I want to know more about the boy who might apparently become a great warrior in the future.” Robert asked of him and Ned smiled, leaning back into his chair and recalling one of the many stories that had been written in letters.

It was then that it happened.

Stomach heavy with dinner and wine, lulled into comfort by a the burning warmth of a fire and the presence of best friend and mentor, Ned got a little too secure. 

“Torrhen has styled himself his sister's and cousins' protector, and Andric and Arthur are encouraging him in his endeavors. I fear for the girls' annoyed reactions in the future if they hold even a bit of Dornish temper. Torrhen will have his work cut out for him.” It took a moment for him to notice how everyone in the room had stilled, how his smile was met with blank faces as he looked up from his cup again.

“Did you just say Arthur?”

A heavy silence suddenly filled the room but Ned could swear that everyone would be able to hear his racing heartbeats, the noise was certainly thundering in his ears. All hopes of Robert having overheard his slip up were entirely crushed when those blue eyes got narrowed into tiny slits and Robert's face began to redden in yet still pushed back fury.

“Ned.” Robert began very slowly and dangerously quiet, Ned could barely hear him over the ringing in his ears, “Answer me this question and think well about your words.” And then it came, the question Ned knew would come now, the question he had expected to come ever since that day where he had found a broken white knight kneeling at his sister's deathbed, “Did you actually kill Arthur Dayne?”

Answering hurt. It broke a promise he had made. But at the same Ned Stark was no liar.

“No.”

Another moment of silence laid over them as Robert's face turned even redder and his hands curled into fists, Ned chose to quickly glance around the room. Jon was staring at his cup of wine, Ser Barristan was staring at him, completely frozen, Ser Jaime was staring at Robert.

Who just as expected exploded in the next moment.

“You lied to me!” Robert yelled and jumped to his feet, the chair crashing loudly to the floor, both Kingsguard tensed even further, sharing a look, Ned saw it all.  
“I never lied.” He calmly told Robert, not making any move to get up from his chair, “I never said a single word about killing the Sword of the Morning, and neither did Howland. People made assumptions. You made them.”

“You rode for Dorne to end that bastard's remaining support. You wrote me yourself that Arthur Dayne will no longer be a problem.” Robert raged but Ned knew him well enough to not have any real risk of Robert getting physical just yet.  
“Was he a problem in the last six years?” He still calmly sent right back to his oldest friend while at the same time knowing that he was talking against a wall, Robert would only hear what he wanted to hear when it came to Lyanna.

Ned was way more interested in the looks of Jaime Lannister and Barristan Selmy, both of them looked hungry for more information. And way less shocked about this news than they should have been.

“He was...”

“Prince Rhaegar's best friend, like I am yours!” Ned wasn't blind to how everyone but Robert winced upon the dead Prince's name, “Do you want me to stand trial for your mistakes on the sheer basis that I carry your trust and gave you my loyalty?”

“They took...”

“Arthur Dayne followed orders.” Ned cut right through the arguments he only knew so well, arguments he had grown incredibly tired of. “As true as I am standing here, Lyanna's death broke him as much as it did you, Robert. You weren't the only one who loved my sister.”

'And shit, you shouldn't have said that, Ned. You really shouldn't have said that.'

But it was too late. The words were out.

Robert was staring at him, face unreadable in his shocked fury, Jon had long since buried his face in both hands and both Kingsguard were openly gaping at Ned now.

\--

Being shoved into a secret passageway by one Jaime Lannister would have excited Aurane once upon a time but at the moment it did nothing but elevate the sense of doom that had come upon him.

Ever since Lord Stark's sudden hasty departure this morning, the mood at court had turned from tensed to coiled for impending explosion and Aurane felt like he had missed something very big. And there you think you can enjoy an off day and go riding a bit, he thought bitterly, still only blindly following Ser Jaime where the younger man was pulling him along with one hand on his arm.

Two more turns in dimly lit corridors and Aurane had no idea anymore where they were, neither under King Aerys nor now under King Robert had he ever seen the need for secret corridors.

“Didn't know that executions in hiding were your thing now, Lannister.” 

Now, running his mouth though, that was something Aurane was very much good at and had always kinda seen the need for.

'Believe me, Rhaegar, even old and blind I will still be able to distinguish between Aurane and you easily. One only needs to open their ears and follow the silence instead of the constant commentary to everything.'

Ser Jaime grumbled something under his breath and then brought Aurane to a stop at a crossing of three corridors in the secret passageways of the Red Keep and Maegor's Holdfast. Aurane wished he knew where he was.

“Look here.” Ser Jaime finally spoke up and even met Aurane's eyes, “I know Arthur is alive.” And that had Aurane tense up from head to boots, right arm being ripped free of the Lannister's hold and the hand going to the dagger he carried at his hip, and only then did his mind catch onto the almost relieved subtone in Ser Jaime's voice.

Seagreen eyes got narrowed to stare at bright green ones.

Waiting for him to continue.

“I mean him absolutely no harm but the same cannot be said about the king.” Ser Jaime explained, all tense and practiced calm. Aurane felt his blood freeze in his veins, heart thumping heavily against his rips.

“The king knows?” He hissed at the Kingsguard and couldn't keep himself back from pushing him back a step or two until the white cloak hit the stone. “How by the Seven does the king know?!” His mind nearly exploded with questions as he stared at the knight before him.

How long would a raven take? How could he send a raven? Could he use Lord Varys to send a raven? Arthur and Andric needed a warning! How long would it take to find his crew and get ready to set sail? How long ago had Lord Stark left the capital and...

Wait a minute...

“Did Lord Stark tell the king?” Bloody Seven Hells, couldn't you trust anyone anymore in this goddamn kingdom? Had the supposed most honorable fucking man in the entire seven fucking kingdoms just betrayed his own blood? “What exactly did Lord Stark tell King Robert?” Aurane demanded when Ser Jaime still wasn't speaking, voice getting a little harsher.

Where could he bring Arthur and the boy?

Essos was still at war and it didn't look like Volantis was going to stop being the aggressor anytime soon, not as long as the Golden Company was fighting for Lys. Pentos was edging closer and closer to joining into the insanity and no ship could pass out or into the Rhoyne for now. Braavos was absolutely out of the question, not as long as Varys was pushing for Rhaegar's siblings, not with those stories about Viserys.

He wouldn't let Varys get even the smallest glimpse of a knowledge about a child of Rhaegar's still being alive. The man didn't know, a miracle in itself, but Aurane was going to make sure he wouldn't know for as long as he could.

He could rely on his connections to the Summer Islanders but Arthur and Jon would stick out so dramatically there that it wouldn't do much for hiding them.

“They were talking about the Daynes. Lord Stark's brother and his wife welcomed a daughter.” Ser Jaime began and Aurane fought down the urge to shake him into hurrying up, he knew about Alysanne Stark, the Daynes were family for crying out loud. “Robert brought up Ashara Dayne and her children, wanted the rumors confirmed. I believe Lord Stark slipped up when he recalled a story.”

“Arthur's name.” Aurane guessed and Ser Jaime nodded, prompting Aurane to drag a hand through his hair and then down his face. “Lemme guess, the king of course immediately lunged for it.”  
“He asked Lord Stark the golden question, if he had killed Arthur.” Ser Jaime explained and Aurane gritted his teeth, how long had he harbored his anger and his fury over this man, only to have his own father blow it away with his news a few moons ago. “What set Robert really off then was Lord Stark's rather accidental mention that Arthur had been in love with Lyanna Stark.”

Oof.

His breath swooshed out of him in one huff, like having an arm knocked against his chest and Aurane blinked at the torch closest to him. Ouch, that must have truly set off Robert Baratheon for good then.

“Did Lord Stark ride off with orders of the king to arrest Arthur?”

Robert didn't know about the boy. If what Ser Jaime said about this blow up was truly all, then Robert didn't know about the boy.

“No.” Ser Jaime took the storm out of Aurane's squeezing heart, “Lord Stark left this morning because Robert refuses to calm down, but Jon Arryn is keeping him under control for now. And Barristan and I are not going to ride for Starfall anyway, and Robert is very much aware that not even we would be enough to subdue Arthur. Even if we wanted to. Especially not with Benjen Stark, Carral Dayne and Richard standing to defend him.”

“Why are you here then? Why drag me away to talk?”

Away from his lunch.

Jaime Lannister could be content that he hadn't lost a hand by daring to pull Aurane away from blueberry cakes.

“You won't even pretend you hadn't known?” Ser Jaime asked and Aurane deadpanned long enough at him to have him go on, he wasn't worth it to explain that Aurane had only known for less than a year himself. “Right. Listen, Aurane...”  
“It's still very much Captain Aurane to you, Lannister.” Aurane snapped and Ser Jaime raised both hands in a placating manner.

“Captain Aurane then. I came to find you because Lord Stark will need a few weeks to reach Starfall, a letter with a warning for the Daynes won't need that long. It's not exactly something that could come from Barristan or me though.”

“You've got a brain in that head of yours after all, don't you? I'll send that raven. Now get me out of these passageways.”

Ser Jaime escorted him right to the gate of the Red Keep to make sure no one ended up stopping him and once he was out of those cursed walls, Aurane hurried down Aegon's High Hill to get down to the harbor.

It was better to sent one of the ravens they had down in the Inn where most of his men were staying, he didn't trust a single maester in the Red Keep. He stormed into the Inn of the Broken Sails with the door banging against the wall and the laughter and easy chatter of his crew dying immediately.

“I need a raven.”

\--

The raven arrived at Starfall in the middle of the night one and a half days later.

“Arthur! Arthur, wake up!”

There were a lot of things you didn't want to see at your bedside in the middle of the night.

Your ashen grey brother holding a letter was definitely among them.

“We have a problem.”


	3. Part II.1 - A Painful Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a few difficult weeks for me but here we go, next chapter. I had to cut it in half because it actually got way too long. Next part to Part II will come later.  
> Thank you if you are still reading!

“Uncle, why not?”

Andric Dayne had two nephews and two nieces so far, twice the amount in each gender that he could claim with his own children. He had always been a lenient older brother, had loved his younger siblings and always indulged their wishes and demands, Ashara and Allyria had ruthlessly exploited it. Arthur not so much, and when he had approached Andric with something, the big brother in Andric had always been only too eager to help.

Being a father and an uncle he found was even more daunting at times than being a big brother, obviously because there was no parent you could shove a little one off to in case you didn't know what to do or were disinclined to give what was asked.

His own daughter and his youngest niece were still too young to demand more than the basic needs. His son and his older niece were still in the process of figuring out just how this whole game was working, though Rhaena was catching on a lot quicker than Edric was and Andric was not prepared for his sweetfaced tiny niece to get the real grip on big eyes and pleading for wishes.

For now he was left with his two nephews. Which in itself could be exhausting enough. 

Torrhen was of course neither hesistant nor quiet to state his wishes and wants, the day the boy hid something from them Andric would worry himself grey thrice over. He was very much like his mother in that state, even though she clearly denied all and any accusations made by her older brother. Jon was the opposite, very much like Arthur indeed, you had to almost wring out the boy to hear a wish or so much as a demand, but when he did come forward in rare times, half the castle almost was bending over backwards to fulfill it.

And mercy to all who came under the joined forces of those stubborn heads, mercy be with them all.

Andric surely wanted nothing but mercy right now.

“Why not, Uncle?” Torrhen demanded to know once more, hands stemmed into his hips, brows drawn together. One day in the future, when he had grown, when the last baby fat was gone from round cheeks and that wooden sword was exchanged with real steel, it would surely be a frightening stance, prompting others to cover in fear and obedience. Andric certainly had a difficult time already to not downright cave in.

“The Prince's Pass is a dangerous place, Torrhen, even for seasoned warriors, more so for too curious little children.” Andric calmly pointed out and looked away from the eyes of his sister in that tiny stubborn face, eyes that narrowed even further now.  
“But we're not going in the Prince's Pass, not really. We're waiting on the edge of it for Lord Stark's entourage so that Lord Fowler's men may return to their home. And Uncle Arthur has been with us plenty of times to the watchtower ruins.” Torrhen argued and he was going to be a nightmare for whatever knight got honored with him as a squire, arguing you into an early grave as an afternoon entertainment.

“Your Uncle Arthur knows the Prince's Pass better than any man in my household, Torrhen.” Andric tried to hold his own arguments against those of his nephews and by the Seven he didn't believe in, the kid was seven, Andric was the Lord of Starfall, he was not going to lose against a child. “But Arthur is not accompanying Benjen and Carral to the Prince's Pass, he is staying right here.”

Standing in front of his desk still, Torrhen gritted his teeth and Andric could see the temper flaring up, Benjen called it “Wolf's Blood”, Andric called it “Dornish Fire”. Whatever it was, no one would ever end up being able to tell the kid what to do as long as he didn't want it. Bastard or not, Torrhen Sand would not stand for anything but greatness for himself.

Before Torrhen could show his temper though, another voice spoke up and Andric had to briefly close his eyes because now he knew he had lost this battle for sure.

“Uncle Andric?” Jon asked and Andric just barely caught the silencing look Jon sent over to his older cousin, contrary to Torrhen Jon had sat down on a chair when Andric had offered it to both his nephews what felt like hours ago. Reluctantly almost, Andric met deep violet eyes and prepared himself for that soon to coming death-to-all-protests argument. “Papa said that a long time ago...” Six years, a short time in Andric's mind, an eternity in children's, “Lord Stark lost someone at the watchtower ruins.”

Yeah, Andric thought, and I'm staring part of it right in his too serious face.

“Would it then not be polite if family guide him through the grief and distract him with something joyful?” Jon reasoned and Andric bit his lips, and there it was, he thought. Right in the heart of it. “And I already asked Papa. He said yes and that we would only need to ask for your permission still.” Jon added after a short moment's pause before both boys were once again staring at him.

Well, if he had used that same argument on his father, it was a wonder Arthur was still able to function and was not a weeping mess on the floor of his chambers.

Andric looked both boys down. Torrhen in mismatched tunic and breeches, smeer of dirt on his right cheek, hair a total and utter mess, angry determined stance from head to toes, eyes narrowed and burning with the want to be challenged into putting up even more of a stubborn fight. And Jon, sitting entirely relaxed and calm and polite on the chair, hands folded in his lap, tunic, breeches and doublet neatly fastened, all in Dayne colors. His lips in a barely there smile, and his eyes round, perfectly wide and round and all the gods be damned.

“Fine.” He gave up, “Fine, you can join them.” Torrhen went from angered to beaming in pure joyful energy so quickly that it gave Andric a headache, Jon smiled so brightly and thankful that Andric felt nearly guilty for not having said yes ten minutes ago. “But...” He stopped Torrhen when he already made to run from Andric's solar, “You will still ask Uncle Benjen and Ser Carral for permission. And you will ask Ser Richard to join the entourage. You will listen to every single command those three will give you. And you will not embarrass us in front of Lord Stark. He is your uncle but he is also the Warden of the North, he will be treated with manners. Have you heard me, Torrhen?”

“Yes, Uncle.”

“Alright. Now, be off. Jon, tell your father to stop using me against you.” Andric called after them still, already dragging a hand down his face, devious little wolves.  
“Yes, Uncle Andric!” Jon laughed as he sprinted after Torrhen from the room, both of them barely avoiding to run into Eyrin as she stopped in the door.

“So, they got you, hm?” His wife wanted to know as she stepped into the solar and closed the door behind herself, giving them a little moment of privacy. They had way too little of it in the last weeks, between a small babe still demanding much of her mother's attention and Andric working endlessly with Arthur, Richard, Doran and Oberyn to find possible flight routes and hideouts for Arthur and Jon if anything went even more dire than it already was, there was no real time to relax.

Andric pushed himself away from his desk and opened his arms, Eyrin smiled and settled herself on his legs, stealing a kiss or two while he wrapped both arms around her.

“Darvin got a raven from Driftmark.” Eyrin told him after a short quiet moment, “Lucerys writes that nobody on Driftmark or Dragonstone has heard a word from Aurane in more than a fortnight.”  
“Aurane can take care of himself, my love.” Andric soothed his wife's obvious worry, though his own stomach wasn't exactly settling without a touch of concern anymore. “King Robert needs his allies right now, more than ever where Balon Greyjoy is so close to put a crown upon his own head. If he makes a move against Aurane, he'll enrage his own brother and the Captains of the Royal Fleet.”

“You have much trust in a man who is brother to the king we despise.” Eyrin admitted her displeasure at the politics quietly and set the scroll that had supposedly come from Driftmark onto his desk. Andric sighed and dropped his face against her shoulder, tightening his arms around her. It felt good to let himself have a moment where he didn't need to keep up the steady calm appearance of a Lord of the castle.

Every raven was received with half a stroke by Darvin. Every letter or scroll brought down to Andric had him break out in a sweat, awaiting a royal seal that still hadn't come. 

The only ones not yet aware of the danger lurking over them all were the children, though Andric was sure that out of all of them Jon was catching on that something was wrong, as much as they were trying to let them remain free and to their daily routines. The boy was just too observant and smart.

Ned Stark had a lot of explaining to do.

\--

“Father, look!”

Encouraged by Robb's outcry, Ned took his gaze away from the landscape to the right of them, he knew in his heart that the last time he had ridden this way one had been able to see the Tower of Joy from this far already. Now of course nothing but the barest of ruins would be left anymore, Lord Andric had seen to that.

Robb was excitedly pointing over to where riders could be seen up ahead on the road, banners depicting the fallen star of House Dayne and the direwolf howling at a fallen star of Dornish Starks. Sitting in front of Rodrik, Robb was nearly bouncing in the saddle, it was a miracle that the boy hadn't caught onto the tension on the day they had rather abruptly left King's Landing, granted more or less by the fact that where Robert hadn't glanced at Ned once anymore he had at least made his goodbyes to Robb.

He saw his brother first, tall and broad-shoulders on his brown horse, armor and cloak silver to give good show to his moniker. Benjen was framed by a Dayne knight with blond hair and a dark haired man wearing a yellow cloak who seemed vaguely familiar.

And then he saw the boys.

And it took all he had to not lose the grip on his horse's reigns, even Rodrik gasped.

Shifting on his pony like he physically wasn't able to hold still, Torrhen looked so shockingly like Brandon had at that age that it took Ned's breath away. And the boy on the pony next to his cousin's didn't exactly make it any easier to breathe either, his hair so curly but still looking so much like Lyanna, especially in brown riding breeches and wind tossled hair.

The boys were exchanging some words, Torrhen leaning over to whisper something supposedly only meant for Jon's ears. Jon smiled but his eyes didn't leave their approaching party for a second. 

Behind those five, Ned could only see some Dayne knights waiting at the back, neither Andric nor Arthur were around and Ned wasn't surprised by it. By now either a letter with a royal summon had been send to Starfall or someone else – fucking Aurane Waters most likely – had warned the Daynes of what had happened.

“I can't believe to ever be placed in this position but well done, Ned, you fucked up greatly.” Benjen greeted him with half a glare, half a smirk and Ned gave him a grim smile in turn, he was very much aware of his mistake and the mess it had created.  
“Uncle Benjen!” Both boys cried out immediately though, wide eyes set onto their uncle and it was skinny Jon who continued, his eyes had darkened away from indigo towards a more pure violet. “You can't greet Lord Stark like that, Uncle.” A six year old boy could not possibly sound any more shocked about manners, looking from Benjen to the riders that framed him, both of them biting back smiles.

“He's also my older brother.” Benjen pointed out and leaned forward to catch his nephew's eyes, Jon's eyes narrowed a little.  
“He is the Warden of the North first. I know my lessons, Uncle.” Jon held against him and Ned found himself chuckling, suddenly understanding Andric's latest letter that had spoken about how arguing with Jon was just impossible.

Benjen looked back to Ned and the brothers shared a grin.

“Welcome to Dorne then, my Lord. We are honored to greet the Warden of the North this far South.”

Ned inclined his head and dared a glance over to his nephews, Torrhen was giggling, Jon was nodding over the right words Benjen had chosen.

“And to further not disappoint my nephew, let me introduce my companions, brother. Ser Carral Dayne, Lord Andric's cousin and Starfall's master at arms.” Benjen gestured to the man on his left, taller than him even still, blond hair and blue eyes. Ser Carral inclined his head to them but his eyes held a bit of left-over sharpness when he met Ned's own gaze. He had a lot of apologizing and explaining to do. “You might recognize Richard maybe.” Benjen continued and Ned drew his eyes over to the man with the yellow cloak.

Brown eyes were watching him, blank face, non-judging stare, something definitely tickled the back of Ned's mind but nothing came up.

“We didn't cross paths on the Trident, my Lord.” The man called Richard spoke up, “Though I did see you fight before I was injured. The name is Richard Lonmouth, Lord Stark, it's a pleasure to meet you without a battlefield.” And of course, the Knight of Skulls and Kisses, one of Prince Rhaegar's former squires and friends.

No one ever died anymore, it seemed.

“And of course, my nephews.” Benjen beamed and turned Ned's attention away from the supposedly dead Stormlander knight, over to his nephews, one of whom of course didn't know even that Ned was his uncle. “Boys, why don't you introduce yourself to Lord Stark before I do even more wrong.”

Torrhen laughed while Jon remained quiet and serious, waiting for his older cousin to go first, which Torrhen followed through on just one second later. “I am Torrhen Sand, Lord Stark. It is an honor to meet you.” He said and then grinned bright and wicked, he was a character that boy.  
“And I am Jon Dayne, my Lord.” And no, Ned didn't wince, at least not on the outside, Jon went on, those violet eyes sharp and seeing so much more than a boy his age should, “It is a great honor to get to accompany you these last leagues to Starfall.”

\--

Ned couldn't look away from the boys as they made a small break to let the horses rest before riding the last hours. They would reach Starfall in the evening, which probably meant that Andric and Arthur would give him one more night before Ned had to face the questions and the blame.

Benjen and Ser Carral talked with the men of Lord Fowler who had guided Ned and his men through the Prince's Pass before sending them on their way back again. Torrhen and Jon had quickly only shaken his hand before obviously deciding that Robb was way more interesting as a playmate their age. 

It hurt a little to hear Torrhen call him Uncle and Jon using Lord Stark, but the boy didn't know and Ned knew he had no right to claim a position for himself, not after he had endangered the boy's life so. The kid had a father, and it was him who had the right to answer questions and to explain where the boy came from, certainly a tale no six year old would be able to swallow, let alone understand.

After the long ride from King's Landing, Robb was more happy than ever to spend time with other children, children who were also his cousins and Ned watched them help take care of the horses with a smile on his face. Despite their different coloring, Robb's Tully hair and Tully eyes and Torrhen's Dayne eyes, it was easy to see the Stark blood in them. Tall for their age, broad shoulders already, confidence in every step and gesture.

And Jon looked so much like Lyanna that it could take his breath away, a long Stark face, Lyanna's nose and his hair was hers. Compared to his cousins the boy looked downright skinny though, there was no Stark built in him, and though Benjen was probably right, the boy would surely grow taller than his mother had ever been, he was definitely coming after the Silver Prince's lean height.

Jon was also clearly more quiet than Brandon's son, and Ned didn't see that as a surprise at all, maybe even a blessing. Had both of them been kissed with the wolf's blood, dozens of people would be grey by now already.

“It's like I am looking at the past.” Rodrik admitted with a smile at his side, gladly accepting the blood oranges Richard Lonmouth held out for them. “That boy commands the very air around him to attention.” Ned grinned as he glanced back at the three boys talking with each other, the two ponies drinking water Jon had poured into a bowl. Torrhen was gesturing with one hand, eyes twinkling, and Robb was hanging onto every word.

A cuff to the back of his head had Ned switch his focus onto his brother though where Benjen had returned to them.

“I can't believe you ended up having the loose tongue.” Benjen hissed quietly and sat down on the rock next to Ned, Ser Richard and Ser Carral remained standing. “Of everyone I would have feared to say a wrong thing and set the rocks into falling from the cliff, you were second to last on my list.” Ned lowered his faze and Benjen ripped into the blood orange with justified amount of anger. “If Arthur deems it necessary to punch you in the face, I'm not gonna stop him. He has all the rights to it. If Andric even leaves anything for him to punch.”

“I know. I fucked up. I got too comfortable with Robert and thought myself safe in conversation with him.” Ned explained and Benjen glared at him. “I know I should have been careful and I have no excuses for it. Captain Aurane warned me of Lord Varys and I evaded the man like the plague he is, I didn't expect to slip up with Robert and Jon.”  
“And with it you might as well have condemned more than just Arthur to suffer.” Ser Richard snarled and then walked off, clearly not wanting to let anger take over. Ned watched him approach the boys, kneeling down to introduce himself to Robb before leaning in to share something with Jon, making the boy laugh.

\--

“Rider!” Someone called out and Ned followed Benjen's gaze to the West where indeed a lone rider was approaching, no sigil to be seen, only yellow clothes and a shawl around the head to protect against the sun and the sand. Benjen must have recognized him though because he was grinning in the next moment.

“Boys, look who is a day early again!” He called out to his nephews who were riding ahead of them and Jon and Torrhen shared a thick grin before Jon glanced back at them over his shoulder.  
“Can I go?” He wanted to know and upon Benjen's nod, he was turning his pony off of the steady path and was just off. Off and gone like the wind. Ned couldn't help but gape after his nephew as Lyanna's son raced off into the dunes of sand like his mother had into the snow in her time.

“You're not sending anyone after him?” He still asked with little concern while his eyes followed the pony's path through the untouched desert nature over to the approaching rider.  
“Did we ever send someone after Lyanna?” Benjen wanted to know with a laugh, “Kid learned how to ride a year ago and he's already quicker than I could ever dream to be. The only one who can keep up with him is the man riding towards him now, and the bets are still out on Allyria once she is back on her horse.”

“Who is riding towards us?” Rodrik wanted to know from behind them, having previously been talking with Ser Carral, supposedly from one Master-at-arms of a keep to the next.  
“Another one in the line up for Ned's doom.” Benjen chuckled and having fallen back to ride next to Torrhen in Jon's abandoned place, Ser Richard started laughing. “You'll soon get to meet Prince Oberyn Martell, big brother.” Benjen stated in the driest amusement he could conjure while Ned knew he was paling, sitting in front of him in the saddle Robb glanced between them.

Benjen couldn't have been any clearer in the first full letter he wrote Ned after Arthur, Ashara and the children had arrived at the Water Gardens.

'Arthur was in his own words so worried on how Oberyn would take the news of Jon. And it couldn't have gone differently and now our nephew, dear brother, calls both Princes Uncle. Based on their own demand.'

It had warmed Ned's ever worried heart at that time, to know that such powerful dangerous men as the Princes of Dorne were very much considering Jon family. More people to protect him and the secrets of his blood.

Now, it alarmed him, those created family ties of his nephew who didn't even know he was such, because it had been Ned who had brought Arthur and Jon into danger and the Red Viper himself was stopping his horse so he could dismount. Prince Oberyn Martell was laughing, hearable even over the distance as Jon was visibly hopping up and down on his pony. 

And then the little boy got plugged from said pony and replaced in the saddle of the sand steed the prince had ridden. Grabbing the reigns of the pony, Prince Oberyn swung himself back onto his horse behind the boy he had claimed as his nephew, the half brother of the niece and nephew he had lost. 

Benjen called for a stop of their group as they awaited the Prince to join them.

As the Dornishman from Sunspear came close enough to make out facial expressions, Ned wondered if the smile was more genuine or rather the pleasant last view before the viper struck. Sitting before him, Jon was wearing the most dramatic pout Ned had ever seen on a child in a long time, one that would have rivaled his mother's own famous one for sure.

“Oh no.” Benjen laughed heartedly as he shook hands with Prince Oberyn who had stopped right next to him, Ser Richard had dismounted to take the reigns of Jon's pony and after some quick exchanged looks helped Robb onto it. “Did your precious Lady not come along?” Jon blushed entirely scarlet even when violet eyes narrowed in his uncle's direction, on his pony Torrhen was snickering.

“Tyene is in Oldtown, running an errand for me. Doran and I might have an idea on how we can get out of this situation...” Prince Oberyn said with a glance in Ned's direction, “with all our heads on our necks.”

“What situation?” Jon asked at the same time as Torrhen's eyes went wide while demanding to know “who will lose their heads?” A sigh later, Benjen and Ser Richard jumped into assuring both boys that nothing was wrong and that no one was going to lose their heads. As they rode then, Ned found himself between Benjen and Prince Oberyn, both of them talking merrily and without a sign of any animosity in sight.

Jon piped up now and then when asked something, but most of the time he was observing the Northmen, Ned saw those eyes formulate questions for later.

It was when they rode past the ruins of the Tower of Joy that Jon's words rang clear over the sudden silence that had fallen over the group.

“Lord Stark, if I may ask.” The boy was looking right at him and bless him for it, every single word chased memories from Ned's mind, “What is snow like? Uncle Benjen says it's like cold sand but that cannot be. Sand is sand but snow comes from frozen water from the clouds.” Benjen answered Ned's look with a bright grin, no hesitation with the hard questions then.  
“I fear that is something I cannot answer, my boy. It truly is something one has to experience themselves to form an opinion. Snow is cold, aye, but it comes in so many different forms.” Jon was frowning as Ned tried to explain.

“I will have to come North then when I'm older.” Jon decided with a small nod, seeming so much older than his six years, until a little wicked smile fell over his lips and he couldn't have looked any more like Lyanna then, “I want to push Papa into the snow.” Benjen and Oberyn laughed and even Ned had to smile, Arthur Dayne had surely never seen snow as well in his life. More questions followed, this time about Winterfell and Torrhen let himself be heard as well, and like that Ned didn't even realize they had long since passed the sight of the tower ruins.

Some hours later Starfall came into view, and how a joy it was to know that their journey was for now at an end and that true rest could follow. Painful discussions as well, but rest and family most of all.

In the village, people crowded onto the street, cheered for the men they knew. They called out for the Prince of their homeland. Louder still they cheered for Benjen, cheered for their Silver Wolf. Torrhen's bright grins and twinkling eyes earned him a lemon cake from the baker that he quickly tugged away into his tunic, Ned guessed in order to hide it from his mother's eye. Jon's tongue stumbled over itself with thanks when a young woman handed him a little bag, he apparently knew what was in it.

They rode over the lowered drawbridge and into the courtyard of Starfall where the Daynes were lined up on the entrance steps of the castle. Lord Andric in the middle, his wife on his left with a child in her arms, little Edric standing before them. On the Lord of Starfall's right, Arthur Dayne's eyes zeroed in on Ned like those of a predator singling out his prey, but Arthur's face was entirely blank. At his side, Ashara was smiling brightly, carrying her daughter on her hip, little Rhaena was grinning at her brother. And then Allyria, smiling happily upon catching Ned's eyes, grown up more, glowing with the joy of a new mother, in her arms she carried the swaddled up form of Ned's first niece.

“Lord Stark, it is an honor to welcome you back to Starfall.” Andric greeted him as they had dismounted, Robb scurrying to his side despite his longing looks sent to Jon and Torrhen who were both walking to stand with Arthur, whose eyes were still set onto Ned in an ice cold glare.  
“It is an honor on my side as well, even under these circumstances.” Ned gave the necessary sentiment back and accepted the salt and bread handed to him by the castle's maester.

“Despite the unfortunate incident, we are still happy to meet family.” Andric smiled and they shook hands, Ned found himself a little lighter, “Fixable?” Andric lowered his voice a little as the whole official moment was broken and Robb rushed over to Jon and Torrhen, intention clear as he stared up with wide blue eyes at the man who finally took his glare off of Ned.

“With the right words, yes.” Ned told the oldest Dayne sibling, “Robert's fury will cool in the weeks to come still. And I know that Jon Arryn will do everything to convince him to show reason. And the Greyjoys rebelling against the crown certainly poses a more valiant threat than a resurrected Arthur Dayne.”

“Let us hope so.” Prince Oberyn had snuck up on them, taking a place next to Andric and looking to him first, “I got word from Talion before I rode. Aurane's ship is still very much in the harbor, his crew said he has not given them any reason to worry.” He explained to Andric in a side note and Ned frowned.  
“Captain Aurane Waters?” He inquired and both men turned to look at him, “We spoke a mere two days before I made my mistake. He warned me of Lord Varys but seemed very alright to me. Has something happened?”

“There hasn't been word of my cousin since you arrived in the capital, I fear.” Ashara's voice suddenly spoke up from behind him and Ned hurriedly turned around to take her hand and kiss the back of it, her daughter was gone from her hip, Lady Eyrin was standing next to her, holding onto her own daughter. Ned looked around for that silver hair and found her curtsying in front of his son, Robb blushing at her. “But as I have told my brother already. Aurane is a man who can very well take care of himself. And now let us rest this topic for now, you must be exhausted.”

\--

Arthur and Andric gave Ned even the whole next day to relax after the long ride, giving him time to meet his niece and talk with family. Robb got swept away come first light by Torrhen, Jon and Edric the next morning and Lady Eyrin assured him as Ned joined the family to break his fast that he wouldn't get to see his son until the evening feast.

A feast thrown to celebrate family, it had been long planned and not even this looming fear could change that now.

Rodrik found easy companionship with Ser Carral. Andric grumbled over letters even at the breakfast table and with guests, his wife was rocking their daughter at his side. The boys had only shuffled down the minimum of food before they had been off and the only child that remained dutifully graceful at the table older than a babe was little Rhaena sitting across from Ned.

Ashara, Allyria and Ben were the ones holding up the brunt of the conversation while Ned tried to work up an appetite over the sickening feeling in his stomach that remained even weeks after leaving King's Landing. The only other not common figure among the Dayne's private family dining room next to Rodrik and him was Prince Oberyn sitting on Andric's left, quietly observing him and reading over scrolls Andric held out for him then and now.

Arthur Dayne was notibly absent from breakfast that morning.

“Don't think something into it.” Ashara told him quietly, sitting at his side and decking another piece of bread with honey before holding it out for her daughter to take. “Arthur stirs in his anger and disappointment in absolute silence, been terrible to figure out as a kid already. He'll come and talk with you when he's ready.”

Just as Ned was set to answer, Andric groaned and buried his face in one hand, the other holding a scroll, just short enough to have been an urgent message brought by a raven.

“Brother?” Ashara wanted to know, Ned could see how she had tensed but when Andric looked up again, he looked more annoyed than concerned.   
“Corlyn. He writes that Uncle sailed to Dragonstone to demand Aurane's release, he's still convinced that Aurane got locked up.” Andric explained and then dragged a hand through his hair again, “Gods, Uncle is gonna make this worse than it already is.”

“I know that Robert was annoyed with Captain Aurane.” Ned began and all eyes were on him immediately, “But I also know that Jon Arryn and him begrudgingly maybe but still know that his skills and leadership over the other Captains are needed, especially now where the Greyjoys are in basically open rebellion against the crown.”  
“Just how is my cousin annoying the King?” Andric wanted to know with a tense little twitch in his eyebrow.

“By playing into his resemblance to Prince Rhaegar.” Ned chose the quick honest way, Prince Oberyn flinched, Ashara threw both hands over her face and Andric groaned, the rest at the table not as inclined to Aurane Waters' antics it seemed.  
“Does no one intend to stop him?” Lady Eyrin looked from her husband to Ned, “I know he's been through a lot but...we've all been through a lot and Aurane is playing with a fire he cannot control. He's making things much worse for Arthur.”

“I don't think so actually.” Prince Oberyn spoke up as well, “I think that Aurane knows quite well what he is doing. He was a bastard first brought to court under Aerys, a way more dangerous path to step on and Aurane did it without ever stepping on anyone's toes. Aurane learned from Rhaegar and Lucerys how the game got played. I'm way less worried about him than I am over Lucerys right now. King Robert did him a great favor in letting him keep his head and just lose his hold over Driftmark, Lucerys should not play with his anger so.”

“As much as Jon Arryn is concerned, Stannis Baratheon is fond of Aurane because of his talents and the work he has done. I am sure he will be able to hold Lord Lucerys off.” Ned tried to give comfort, after his brief encounter only with Aurane Waters he had no real doubt that the man knew a lot better how to handle himself at court than most seemed to believe.

“Still, I'll talk to Arthur. If anyone can get into Aurane's head, it's him. Uncle Lucerys has already lost one son, I don't want to imagine what he will do if he loses Aurane, too.” Andric concluded the topic, “Right now I am way more interested in who King Robert's new bride is going to be and do not play me for a fool, Ned, I know that you know.”

\--

Ned didn't get to see Arthur until the evening feast began and even there he kept himself to the presence of Ser Richard or Prince Oberyn, exactly the place Ned avoided for the prince made him nervous. In the inner pocket of his doublet the rubies felt like burning coals, as if they were glowing from within and drawing the attention of everyone onto him.

People talked, made conversation and though he was Warden of the North now and certainly the first who had ever paid a visit to a Dornish house, Ned still felt awkward. Smalltalk and socialising had never been his strong suit, his siblings had played the room, he sat back and observed.

The children were playing and running around the room, especially once the music started and some people got to dancing. The two youngest daughters of the two noble Houses now residing within Starfall were handed from one pair of arms to the next, everything was way more relaxed than Ned was used to it from the North or the Vale.

“Different than home, isn't it?” Benjen appeared at his side and slapped a hand to his shoulder, passing over a cup of wine as well. Edric passed by them and stopped only long enough to have his hair ruffled before he was shooting back to where Torrhen and Robb were whispering. It made something in Ned's heart beat faster when he now saw how quickly the boys had quickened a friendship, and even Jon, though clearly more hesitant, he had seen in comfortable laughter with Robb already.

His younger nephew was being pulled over to where the grown ups were dancing by little Rhaena Sand, and Ned chuckled when both kids tried to imitate Ashara and her dancing partner. Allyria came over and pulled Benjen away, leaving Ned to be approached by Andric.

“If you have something to say to him, be honest about it and don't wait for him to come to you.” Andric told him quietly and nudged his head over to where his brother was shaking his head in laughter over whatever Prince Oberyn had told him. “He's angry, aye, but trust me, out of the people currently in this castle, he also knows best what a toxic pit the Red Keep can be.” Ned nodded in response to Andric's words and then watched how the older man got nearly run into by Torrhen and Edric, Robb at their heels.

Ned braced his shoulders and took the steps over to both Knights and the younger Prince of Dorne.

“Can we talk for a moment? In private?” Asking felt unreal, Arthur had so far spent a good amount of time avoiding Ned's presence and confronting him with the question now in front of others where it would seem impolite to decline was bad taste, but Ned needed to talk to him. Arthur looked at him for a moment, then exchanged a look with Ser Richard that Ned would have loved to understand.

“Of course.” Arthur answered him after another second and led Ned out of the great hall and then down some corridors until they reached an atrium. It was a small inner courtyard of the castle, situated in the private wing of Starfall where no man or woman was allowed to enter without the Lord's permission. It was a beautiful little place filled with stone benches and brightly colored flowers. 

Arthur sat down on a bench but Ned didn't follow, he didn't know if the gesture would have Arthur grateful or furious, so he was better left standing. And he went down right to the point as well.

“There is a rather morbid game that children in the Riverlands are playing, those children who live close to the Trident.” Ned began and already felt terrible when Arthur flinched and lowered his eyes to stare at some yellow flowers. “Whether it be highborn or lowborn...They search for rubies at the shore of the river.” Arthur froze, violet eyes came up to stare at Ned again after a moment. “To my great displeasure, Robb got himself convinced to join some kids when we staid at the Inn at the Crossroads.”

“Did he...”

Arthur's croaked question broke off when Ned reached into the pocket of his doublet and pulled out the little black sack. He had turned to carry it on his person once they had entered Dornish borders, and now he handed it over to Arthur who grabbed it with a slightly shaking hand.

“I'll leave you to open it alone.” Ned said and turned away while Arthur was still staring at the black fabric in his hand. He returned to the feast, eyes instinctively making out Robb chatting with Torrhen while Jon was whispering to Rhaena who he was holding on his lap, Edric was kneeling on the bench next to him, holding a book.

Smiling at the sight of the children, Ned made his way over to the high table and took his place again before leaning in to quietly say some words to Andric.

\--

The two rubies in his palm were light, a barely there featherlight weight but it felt like he was about to be buried beneath them. Just like in those nightmares.

He had hated Rhaegar's armor. 

From the first day the smith had sent the armor up from the village to the castle on Dragonstone and Rhaegar had presented it to them. He remembered it like it was yesterday now, Myles' and Richard's helpless looks sent in Arthur's direction when Rhaegar had asked their opinion. It was terrible, and Arthur had never made a secret out of his thoughts concerning the matter.

'I could have gone ahead and directly drawn you a bullseye, wouldn't have cost you any precious rubies.' He had snarled at Rhaegar, ignoring Richard's amused grin and Myles' horrified face, the younger boy had still been new at that time. Rhaegar had defended his choice and Arthur had defended his opinion even more harshly until they had all together stopped talking about it.

If only Arthur had been more insisting...

That stupid three headed dragon on Rhaegar's chestplate. Blinding rubies on all black.

He sighed and curled his fingers around the rubies, pressed his fist against his face for a brief moment before he forced himself to his feet. A short trip to his chambers later, he was climbing down the long stairs down into the dungeons. They hadn't been used in centuries, ever since Vorian Dayne had been defeated by Princess Nymeria's forces, Starfall didn't hold prisoners anymore really, most were sent to Sunspear for a proper trial.

Proper care for this part of the castle had still been continued, it would do them no good to have the very rock that kept Starfall from plunging into the Torrentine mouth rot away from under them. And the dungeons now held secrets that were much much more precious than any prisoner could ever be.

The room he stopped in front, just above the floor where the cells had been created so long ago, had once housed a guard's room. A simple small room with no window and just two oil lamps that Arthur would ignite with the torch he had grabbed before venturing down. The room's former wooden door had been exchanged with a more robust steel door on Andric's orders only a few moons after Arthur and Ashara had left for Essos with two small boys.

He hadn't come down here more than three times since they had returned to Starfall for good, but this evening he couldn't help himself. The rubies in his pants pocket felt burning hot suddenly as he unlocked the door and stepped into the room, he ignited the oil lamps and then took a deep breath.

The only content of the room was a great chest bearing the three headed dragon of House Targaryen. 

Arthur hung the torch into a hook on the wall and then sank down in front of the chest. There was no lock anymore, scrambled as his head could be sometimes over simple matters, Rhaegar had carried the key with him into his path for battle and Lyanna had nearly screamed the tower down in her frustration over it. Their close belongings had been in it, which included especially her memories of home.

Oswell had tried his luck with a hairpin for nearly half an hour before Lyanna's patience had run out on him and she had ordered Arthur to take the quick way with it. Rhaegar's fancy lock hadn't stood a chance against Dawn, rarely something did.

He pushed the chest open now and pulled off the protective blanket that had been placed upon the content of the chest. The only one who had a copy of the key for this room was Andric, and he was the one who had placed this one thing into the chest that Arthur now carefully uncovered. No one knew how it had made his way down South, let alone who could have sent it to Starfall.

Carral and Benjen had questioned the entire village and harbor, but no one had seen a rider or a ship, no one in the household guard had seen someone slipping through the castle grounds. Fact was, the bundled up package had laid on the entrance steps of Starfall one morning and in Eyrin's words Andric had actually screamed when he had pulled it open in his solar.

It was wrapped in a scabbard now, one that Benjen had dug out from the bottom of the armory and Arthur drew it out with a shudder working itself through his body. 

Rhaegar's sword hadn't been made from Valyrian Steel, but it had been very finely made and as little as Rhaegar had actually shown the blade to people, they had quickly talked about the Prince's secret weapon. A few had mumbled that their Silver Prince had actually recovered Blackfyre from wherever Bittersteel had lost it.

People were stupid.

Rhaegar's sword was simply made in the likeness of Blackfyre, on Rhaegar's personal request and Arthur's everlasting annoyance over him giving outlaws any more reason to attack. The blade was neither Valyrian Steel though, nor had it ever seen the lands outside of Westeros.

'I was probably closer to Blackfyre in Volantis than Rhaegar ever was in his dreams.'

He turned the sword into the light, the blade didn't shine as brightly and clear as it had once upon a time, but a little polishing would have it right back to its former glory. Lyanna had held this in her hands while he gave her lessons, before Rhaegar had ridden off to war with it. Rhaegar fought with this sword, and he died with it.

“I always grow worried when I catch you holding it.” Andric spoke up in the open doorway and then stepped into the room, closing the door behind himself. Arthur looked over to where his older brother was sitting down on the ground against the right wall.  
“You worry when you see me holding a sword?” Arthur wanted to know, confusion rippling his thoughts while he lowered the sword onto his legs.

“I worry when I see you holding Rhaegar's sword.” Andric changed his words slightly, “The sword that was used with intent to kill the very man who is now sitting on the Iron Throne. The man who will any day now sent you a formal summons to court to stand questioning.”  
“If you think I will take this sword to cut off Robert Baratheon's head, be assured, brother, that I got something better to use.” Arthur pointed it out calmly and Andric didn't look amused at all.

“Well, now you only achieved that I'll steal Dawn from you in the night before your departure.” Andric grumbled and Arthur snorted, knew that his brother would not go through with his threat, it was something else that laid on his mind then that he voiced.  
“So you think there is no way around it? I will have to go to King's Landing?” He wanted to know and his brother sighed.

“If a summons come, you have to go. And even if not...the time of being dead is over, Arthur. And we'll have to face the questions now.” Andric reasoned, apology clearly written over every inch of his face. He would have preferred to keep his brother contained to Dorne, to keep his survival a secret still, to be able to protect him for once. “What did Ned give you that made you come down here?”

Arthur set the sword back into the chest and pulled the rubies from his pocket, revealing them to Andric in an open palm.

“Are...are those....” Andric was left searching for the right words and got back to his feet, only to kneel down right next to Arthur, taking one ruby between his fingers.  
“Apparently children in the Riverlands search for rubies at the shores of the Trident now.” Arthur whispered and he could feel it building up in himself now, could feel it crawling right from the core of himself. “Robb found them.”

Six years.

Rhaegar had been dead for more than six years now.

So why did a simple reminder hurt so much still?

Andric set the ruby back to the other in Arthur's hand and then curled Arthur's fingers protectively around them before pulling his brother's head against his shoulder.

“It's a meager little comfort but...” Andric began quietly a few moments later, “You know what Uncle said, you know what Elion said, one day it will be easier. And just like them, you have something to remember your loved one by.” The words were out before Andric realized just what he had said and he flinched where Arthur grimaced because of what fate had implied there. 

It was true that Lucerys and Elion had both not only married for political reasons but also for love, that love had only grown, even over the birth of bastard sons. Lady Crivina and Princess Loreza had both died long before their time, leaving heartbroken husbands behind who mourned their loss for long and both missed their lady wives to this day. Neither of them had ever thought about marrying again, Arthur knew as much, but they had also not drowned in their grief, had found a way to live again.

Their children.

Especially in those who reminded them most of their dead loves.

But there also laid the bittersweet part.

Out of his uncle's sons, Aurane was the one who came most after Lucerys, Corlyn was the odd one out and Jacaerys was the one who had been like Lady Crivina, born on the sea, born for the sea, his blood mixed with salt water. Lucerys had coddled Aurane, egged on with Corlyn and was always proudest of Jacaerys, supported and encouraged him in his skills and talents where his mother had always been stopped for the simple lack of having a cock between her legs.

And now Jacaerys was gone, had been gone for years. Lost among the sea.

And comparions with Elion? They hurt even more.

Among Elion's three trueborn children, it was Elia who had always been so much like her mother, gentle but strict, a smile like the sun but also sharp wit and a quick lashing tongue. 

And now Elia was dead.

Lucerys and Elion had lost the love of their lives, and then not lost themselves over it because of the children who had been a living reminder, until they had lost them, too.

So what was Arthur's story here? Hurting over Rhaegar and Lyanna forever, only to lose the one hope that made it all worthwile as well?

“I'm sorry.” Andric mentioned, “I shouldn't have made that comparison, that was stupid of me. You won't lose Jon, not ever. We're all going to make sure of that.” Andric continued and reached into the chest once Arthur had pulled away from him again. He pulled out the rather crudely bestitched little blanket, grey direwolves and red dragons on black.

Arthur took it from him and stroked his fingers over it, Jon had never be laid in it but it had been meant for him, had been made for him.

“I can still lose Jon when I tell him the truth.” Arthur pointed out, looking up at his brother again, Andric was shaking his head immediately, leaning over the chest to rummage around for something.  
“You won't lose him over that. You have been a great father to him, he knows you love him, he knows you protect him. Jon is smart, he catches onto things way quicker than any other kid his age I have known. He will understand.”

“So why isn't he asking about his mother?” Arthur lamented and sighed, “Torrhen asked at this age, and how was his situation any different from Jon's?” He wondered his thoughts aloud and then took the little bag that Andric had pulled from the chest. A tiny little red velvet sack that he dropped the rubies into before wrapping it into the baby's blanket before setting it back into the chest.

“He is happy.” Andric made it simple, “He is a happy boy who can feel that he is loved and supported and encouraged in everything he does. He has a great father, he has loving aunts and way too many crazy uncles. And before you ask, their situation might not be different but Torrhen is different in nature, he needs to actually hear something for it to be true, he needs proof that comes from other people, from facts. Jon sees the world with wider eyes, he is a thinker, he makes his own proof. It wouldn't surprise me if he already knows and just doesn't ask after it because he doesn't want you to hurt.”

Andric pushed the chest closed and then tugged Arthur back to his feet, “And now come on. We have family to celebrate tonight, you can go back to thinking tomorrow.”

\--

When the meeting to determine a strategy concerning King Robert started with Oberyn of all people stating that his father and him had come up with an idea, Arthur already knew he wouldn't like it. Three sentences further in and he absolutely knew that he didn't like this idea at all, and it took a lot of will to reach out and keep Andric from getting to Oberyn's throat where he wanted to do it himself so much.

If only for completely different reasons. 

Andric would be concerned about his brother's honor, Arthur couldn't have cared any less about that, he was way more appaled on the sake of the memory of two people he had loved so much. Still loved so much.

“Absolutely not!” Andric roared up and Arthur pushed him back into his chair, “That is the worst thing we could create in a lie!”  
“Andric...” Oberyn tried to placate but upon being met with dark glares by all other occupants of the room, he visibly deflated, “Listen, I know it's not...”

“What isn't it?” Andric snarled and Arthur tightened his hand on his brother's shoulder, “It is unacceptable, Oberyn, I will not color my brother in that light, nor will I let you drag Rhaegar exactly where Robert Baratheon wants him. Jon is not the result of rape, I will not have him presented as a monster who killed his mother! How fast do you think this idea will get us all executed! No, the truth or any victor's version of it will be left alone, Jon is Arthur's son, work with that!”

“With all due respect.” Ned Stark spoke up as well, behind him, backs against the wall, Benjen and Richard were silently observing, “If Robert catches so much as a whiff of Jon's true parentage, we're all going to lose our heads. Even if we present Arthur as the great savior, love will not matter to Robert. He will see dragonspawn and Jon will die.” Everyone winced at the reminder of Rhaenys and Aegon, Arthur saw how Ashara reached out to tug Oberyn down onto a chair next to her.

As arguments broke out then, everyone seemingly having a word or two or even more to say to this mummer's show they were planning, Arthur let go of his brother and stepped back.

Once upon a time he had been appalled at how easy it was for Andric and Ashara, even for Rhaegar, to spin tales over half truths until people believed it had always been what they believed in. Rhaegar had tried to teach him, too, not like Arthur's own siblings who had long since given up on sharpening that skill in their brother who seemed physically incapable of lying.

Arthur was capable of lying, he just felt awful after it and with enough voices hacking away at his mind, he had always preferred to rather keep it at the truth or remain silent. Not even Aerys had made it necessary to learn how to be a better liar, for whatever reason the man had always taken every rare word that left Arthur's mouth in his presence as golden truth.

In sharp contrast to Rhaegar's other confidants. Richard and Myles had always somehow fallen under Aerys' radar, just two squires in his eyes, nothing to care about, even after they had both been knighted. Jon had been despised, from start to finish Aerys had always seen him whispering in Rhaegar's ears, fate alone knew why Aerys had then seen fit to appoint Jon Hand, the immediate exiling after the loss at the Battle of the Bells was more understandable. Oswell had sometimes been watched by Aerys, and he had always been the one acting more careful when it came to their plans. Aurane was a bastard, tolerated because he was a highborn bastard and the son of a dear friend, but nothing good was ever expected of him, not from the Mad King.

'Keep the lie close to the truth and you're less likely to slip up.'

How often had Rhaegar said those words to him and how often had Arthur asked him in return on why bother lying in the first place then.

Arthur had never had kept secrets of his own. Only those of other people. Most of all Rhaegar's.

But now...now it was him who would have to lie because the truth would get them all killed...how though keep it close to the truth to make it easy to lie...Arthur was no mummer, he was no game player, he wouldn't be able to present a complicatedly constricted story net.

Close to the truth...

“We fell in love at Harrenhall.” His voice broke through the others in his brother's solar before Arthur knew he was even ready to speak. Every pair of eyes turned to look at him. His brother, his sister, Oberyn, Richard, Benjen and Ned Stark. “I saw Lyanna for the first time when I found her trying to hide the armor she had worn as the Mystery Knight, the armor that had gotten her in trouble with Aerys. I helped her as we talked and as she explained her reasons I knew that she was something else and that I wanted to see her again.”

“But...” Ashara began hesitantly after a long minute of silence after his beginning, “That...those were Rhaegar's words about her, brother.”  
“Aye, I know.” Arthur told her, he had been to one to stand in the shadow of the trees after all back then, seeing how Rhaegar had watched this slip of a girl as she stubbornly glared back at him, her hands tugging on the shield just as much as he was. “But how many people know it outside this room? Aurane will never do anything to hurt me or Rhaegar's memory, and he can always claim to not having been there anyway. Connington is not going to return to Westeros anytime soon, and Robert thinks him dead anyway. The only other person who might know is Howland Reed.”

“Howland will not venture out of Greywater Watch.” Ned Stark added quietly, “And he will do whatever it takes to keep Jon save. For Lyanna.” Arthur nodded and turned to look between Oberyn and Andric, both of whom would have the easiest time telling if a story worked convincingly.  
“We met, in secret of course, in the next days whenever I could spare a moment. Rhaegar helped, pretended to need me for something when in truth I could sneak off to see Lyanna.” Arthur went on, despite the sickening feeling in his stomach growing stronger, the words came easy. “When the jousting came, I wanted to crown her but I couldn't. It would have thrown too much of a scandal if I had crowned anyone but my sister as a Knight of the Kingsguard. But I didn't get the chance anyway, instead Rhaegar won against Barristan and crowned Lyanna. For me.”

“The following fights with Elia and me were a means to distract from any idea someone could have.” Oberyn had caught on and spoke softly, thinking quick and fast, “Elia played along because she wanted you to be happy, and they didn't tell me until later so my fury would be only the more real.” Arthur deadpanned at Oberyn for the cheek in that idea, his fury had been so real that he had had Arthur pushed up against the wall with his forearm against his throat by the time Lewyn had stormed into the room.

“Unfortunately Rhaegar pushed his game a little too far.” Ashara joined in as well, “We hadn't known that Lyanna was betrothed to Robert Baratheon and a favor for a friend turned into a scandal.” Arthur blew out a breath as the start was made, Andric squeezed his arm as he stood up and pushed Arthur down into his chair, could sense the unease in him.

But this had to be.

For Jon.

“Lyanna though didn't care.” Even Benjen jumped for the rope, “All she could do was talk about her White Knight.” He said it with a grin and Arthur cursed himself for flushing, “Wouldn't even have to lie a lot there, Lya did talk a lot about you in Harrenhall and after, not just about Prince Rhaegar. Father was furious of course about what happened but Lyanna didn't want Robert, less than ever. You wrote letters?”

“Letters that Rhaegar sent under his name.” Arthur replied to Benjen's offered question, even if he lowered his face into his hands and tried to breathe through the pain because now came the hard part. “Without me knowing, Rhaegar and Lyanna had exchanged letters as well, and they had been planning to let her escape from her betrothal.”  
“Lyanna loved you so much.” Benjen said quietly, spinning the story along, Arthur felt the dagger in his chest twisting, “She did not want Robert, she could not stand marrying him while loving someone else so fiercely. So she begged Prince Rhaegar to help her run away.”

Silence reigned then as they thought on how to go on, Arthur could feel Andric's eyes on him but couldn't look up, just focused on breathing.

A story with a role reversal was fine, but now Rhaegar needed to turn into the villain to make Robert Baratheon not only believe but like it.

And it hurt.

Arthur took a shuddering breath and looked up again, “It was then that Rhaegar got too carried away. He sent Oswell with orders to Harrenhall, of which he didn't tell me.” He hadn't initially told Arthur about it in the true history either, to make it easier for Arthur to be around Aerys. “A few days later, he told Myles, Richard and me to pack.” He caught Richard's eyes from across the room and got a nod, Richard would have his back, “He didn't tell me where we were riding for until we were days from the capital. It was only then that he told me he intended to take Lyanna as his second wife so that she may reside at court and be close to me.”

“Arthur...” Ashara's painful whisper of his name had him glance over to her, “Don't do this to yourself...”

“I have to, Ash. The closer to the truth, the easier to sell. This is not about what feels right, this is about keeping Jon safe, and I will do whatever it takes, even if it means dragging Rhaegar's name into the dirt. He would understand.”

“He has a point, Ashara.” Oberyn came to his help, “We cannot get away with this unless we paint Rhaegar the villain and Lyanna and Arthur the victims of his ploy where they had only each other to turn to. But okay...” Oberyn got back to the plan, practical for the moment even though Arthur knew he would see the pain in him as well. “Rhaegar led you to Riverrun to take Lyanna away, you went along with it to protect her because...”

“Because Rhaegar's condition for supporting our happiness was a child.” Arthur nearly choked on the words, clenching his hands into fists, the room went utterly silent, “A second son, the spare heir that Elia couldn't give him anymore.” What a twist on that fucking prophecy, not that Robert would ever hear about that. “Aegon was nought but a babe in arms, a second son would stabilise Rhaegar's reign. Everyone knows Rhaegar was planning on overthrowing his father, that's not a secret. Rhaegar gave us time to think and talk about it as we rode for Harrenhall where Oswell had arranged for a wedding on the Isle of Faces to be arranged.”

“Jon Arryn will want to know which Septon held the wedding.” Ned Stark mentioned, a strain in his voice as well.  
“Our Uncle.” Andric and Arthur answered almost at the same time, exchanging a quick look afterwards before Arthur continued, “The Septon who officiated Lyanna's and Rhaegar's wedding is dead, the only documents that hold proof of it and are not being held in Winterfell or here in Starfall were given to my uncle. Our Mother's brother, he's a Septon in Oldtown.”

“And I send Tyene there to convince him to create false documents for a marriage between Arthur and Lyanna, which she will have done already.” Oberyn explained and Ned Stark nodded, apparently content with it.  
“Lyanna and I chose to deceive Rhaegar...I proposed it to her, Rhaegar was going too far in my eyes but Lyanna had run away now and I didn't want to let her go anymore. And I needed to protect her.” Arthur went on and told himself repeatedly to just breathe, just breathe, you are doing this for them, for Jon, doing this to be with Jon and not a head shorter.

“If you need a break, brother...”

Arthur ignored Andric and pushed through, “We arrived in Harrenhall and as the others settled for the night, Lyanna and I stole away in the night with Uncle to the Isle of Faces.”  
“Witnesses.” His sister reminded him, “You need witnesses. Preferably at least one who is still alive and can actually attest to it.” And her violet eyes glanced over to Richard who straightened where he still stood next to Benjen.

“Oswell and me stood witness when Arthur and Lyanna were wed in front of a heart tree.”

“Richard, no, I can't drag you into this even more.” Arthur pleaded with him, voices in his head snarling and no, not now, he needed to focus now, “You fought at the Trident. Robert will already rage when he hears that you are alive, I...”  
“I am doing this, Arthur, and you can't tell me no.” Richard stopped him and Arthur snapped his mouth shut, “This is not about Rhaegar and keeping up appearances, this is not about keeping his son safe anymore either. When I rode for Starfall, I didn't even know about Jon but I knew about you. I couldn't protect Rhaegar, so at least let me help protect you and the boy now.”

“I think I need a break.” Arthur breathed out and fled Andric's solar for fresh air.

\--

After taking a few minutes to breathe and talking with Richard briefly in the privacy of his room, they all returned back to Andric's solar to spin the tale to an end. 

The wedding between Lyanna and Rhaegar that got never consumated because Myles slipped Rhaegar dreamvine and Lyanna slipped away to be with Arthur.

“We rode to Dorne then, to the Tower of Joy. It was my decision because the Dornish were loyal to Rhaegar.” Arthur sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, he could feel a headache coming, maybe he was indeed physically incapable of lying for too long. Originally, it had been Rhaegar's idea to go to Dorne because no one would expect them there, Arthur's part had only been proposing the watchtower that Rhaegar had dubbed the Tower of Joy a long time before.

“Despite the wariness at first, Lyanna grew fond of Rhaegar.” There was a common wave of small little smiles around the room upon his words, for it had been the other way around in truth, for Arthur as well. The times spent riding side by side and comparing their different childhoods in the North and Dorne, giving her sword lessons with Rhaegar's sword, seeing that bright smile when he praised her talent.

“She laid with him at the tower, knowing that he would only protect us if we went through on his conditions.” Arthur felt faint and Andric's hand on his back was appreciated, brought strength he could take when it hurt so much, “When we found out that Lyanna was with child, we both still knew it could only be mine. Rhaegar rode off to King's Landing believing it was his.”

“And why did you leave?” Benjen wanted to know, seeming years younger suddenly, “We all know he will ask, Arthur.”  
“I send him away.” Andric took lead in answering then, squeezing Arthur's shoulder as he passed by him, “We all know what the realm thought, what was done to Elia and her children. No one will blame me for sending my brother and my sister away with their sons to keep them safe.”

“Will the King believe it?” Ashara asked then, the great big question, and looked over to Ned Stark, he glanced around the room, lingering the longest on Arthur before speaking up.  
“I can make him believe it. If I put emphasis on Lyanna cuckholding Prince Rhaegar behind his back and paint him as the ultimate villain in it, Robert might just end up liking it.” Ned Stark admitted and Arthur only realized his hands had curled into fists when Andric kicked him. “I do not say this because I am comfortable with it, Arthur.” Stark had noticed it as well, “If we spin this tale right, then Jon will grow up protected by the Crown and not hunted by it.”

“I don't want the Crown's protection, I can protect my son quite well on my own.” Arthur grouched and walked to stand behind Andric's desk

“You can't do it if five out of seven kingdoms come riding for your head.” Ashara pointed out quietly but her eyes hardening to steel, “We need allies, Arthur. We need them now, we need them even more for the future.”  
“Ashara is right.” Oberyn agreed with her, “We need to think in the long run as well. The story is good to settle us into the Crown to make plans right under their nose without being detected. Jon's claim is the only true one.”

And Arthur felt like he was stuck in a nightmare when he found heads nodding all around himself.

What...

Where they implying...

So it was true after all, even if he had spent so much time denying it to himself, spent so much time trying to convince himself that they wouldn't do it to him or Jon.

Here they were, having plotted to set Jon on that damn throne after all.

And on they went. Talking about claims and rights and allies while he couldn't believe his ears.

And for the first time in his life, something snapped so heavily in Arthur's mind that all thoughts to proper behavior and private thoughts got damned beyond reasons. His fist crashed onto his brother's desk and the following sound had every man and Ashara in the room freeze before whirling their heads around to stare at him. 

“You're gonna listen to me now.” He began, voice quiet but ringing with something dangerous, something that he could feel crawling around his stomach and latching onto the very blood in his veins. Richard and Benjen were wide eyed at the back of the room, Ned Stark was still sitting, as was Ashara, both their faces blank. It were Oberyn and Andric who were closest to him, both of them already looking shocked.

“I'm gonna make it very simple so that even the most stubborn of you will understand it.” Arthur continued in a tone that came closer to a snarl then, “If I hear one more word about Jon's future, his rights, his claims or his allies from any of you, I will take Jon and you can be damned sure none of you will ever see me or him again. None of you! Jon is my son! It was me Lyanna entrusted him to first, it was me who swore her I would protect him, raise him. Raise him to be happy! Not a king!”

Half the people in the solar flinched upon the last yelled words but Arthur had only started, every muscle in his body tensed for a fight now. A verbal one. A fight he usually let other people have.

“No one here in this room has a right to claim they know what Rhaegar would have wanted for Jon because none of you knew Rhaegar like I did. None of you knew his heart and his mind like I did.” He was nearly ablaze with rage, could feel the hands he had curled into fists at his sides tremble in it, “Rhaegar rode off to war believing Jon to be a daughter. A Visenya for his Rhaenys and his Aegon.” Andric and Ashara furrowed their brows, not once in the many years since the end of the rebellion had spoken Arthur a word about prophecies or Rhaegar's dreams to them, only Oberyn winced and Richard lowered his face. “It doesn't matter anymore what Rhaegar wanted for his children. He is dead. Elia and Lyanna are dead. Rhaenys and Aegon are dead. The Stranger took them all and left me with nothing but Jon, and I will make sure to the last of my days that Jon will never know the sadness that Rhaegar felt every single fucking day of his life, that he will never know the pain and the guilt that I will have to live with for the rest of mine.”

“Arthur...”

“I wasn't finished!” Arthur snapped in his brother's direction and Andric actually recoiled, “The only one who has a right to decide where Jon's future will lead is Jon himself. If he decides he wants the throne, then I will personally cut a way through armies for him and rally up the best people to play the political games. If he doesn't... if he decides to become a maester, if he chooses to be a knight, if he wants to be a farmer, I will not be any less proud of him, happy for him. And if you don't want to lose either of us, all of you will be as well.”

Point brought across, Arthur stormed around everyone, dodged Ashara's hand and then slammed the door behind himself. He didn't stop until he was up in his chambers and even there he only stopped long enough to grab the only thing that had until now ever got to feel his anger.

The sun was nearly high enough for noon when he stepped out into the courtyard of the castle where the household guards were still training the young recruits, where three little boys were giggling while Milo tried to make them listen. Arthur had no eyes for them and instead strode over to where blue eyes were watching his approach with one hand already moving to the hilt of his own sword. 

“Get up!” Arthur hissed and drew Dawn, throwing the scabbard blindly to the side, Carral frowned but got to his feet to pull his own sword.  
“Arthur, are you okay?” His cousin asked, raising a hand to stop the sparring he had observed until now, but he wouldn't get an answer because in the next second Arthur lunged and Carral had to block.

\--

Carral wasn't enough to clear Arthur's head of this something in his veins that was burning hotter than anything ever had. Soon enough to the shock of his cousin, Carral found himself with a weapon that would need a day or two of repairs before it was usable again, and Milo and Luke jumped in to keep Arthur going while Carral helplessly stared at his sword.

When Milo sank to his knees in exhaustion and Luke was panting heavily, Arthur simply whirled around to attack Benjen and Richard who had approached him together. The clash of steel on Dawn was deafening and the spectacle had drawn a crowd by now.

But no one watched the fight with wider eyes than the six year old boy with the violet eyes who stood between his cousins, his wooden training sword dropped into the sand of the courtyard.

On and on it went, Benjen and Richard attacked and deflected Dawn's blows. Left and right. Twist and turn, and still Arthur met them again and again. Lunge, block. Feint, attack, dodge. Richard tapped out after half an hour, holding his arm where Dawn had cut clean through leather, but Benjen effortlessly swung himself into a one on one duel. 

Steel met Dawn. Again and again.

Until at some point, the fight was drained out of Arthur's veins and he dropped down on his knees like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Benjen calmly leaned down and picked up Dawn, sticking her into the sand before wiping a hand over his sweaty face. All around them people were still staring, Andric, Oberyn, Ned and Ashara among them, the latter looking over the cut on Richard's arm. Carral was still grimacing at his sword, a finely made blade but as Arthur's initial target for his fury, Dawn's swings had been strong enough to cut into the steel.

The tripple of small quick feet alerted Benjen to the approach of someone but before he or anyone else could have said something, Jon had thrown his arms around Arthur's neck. Though still breathing heavily and with eyes closed, Arthur still reacted immediately and wrapped his arms tight around the boy.


	4. Part II.2 - A Hard Question With No Answer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And as promised the second part of this cut in half chapter.  
> A quote for this was taken from canon game of thrones, you'll see it when you read it, at least I think so.

Ned left Arthur alone in the next three days after his outbreak, even though plans were being made and Andric and Benjen started on mapping out travel routes, Oberyn plotted in half silence over potential steps to take if Robert decided to arrest any of them.

Ser Richard was the only one who was really seen about with Arthur who focused most of his attention and time on Jon and the other children.

It was in one of those times that Ned found Arthur and Jon in Starfall's small godswood, sitting next to the still rather small weirdwood tree. Jon was pointing out something in a book, free hand gesturing while Arthur smiled at him, and Ned kept himself back to watch them for a moment.

He would do everything he could to convince Robert to not punish anyone, to let Arthur live and raise Lyanna's son in peace. Whatever he had to do, he would do it, after all it had been his fault they were in this mess.

It was Jon who noticed him first, violet eyes narrowed immediately and Ned supposed that despite the careful conversations in the last days to get familiar with each other, he was back on ground zero again. It was obvious the kid blamed him for his father's breakdown in the yard, he was the stranger, he had brought the tension to Starfall.

An elbow later, Arthur was glancing up as well.

“Can we talk?” Ned tried his luck and was relieved when Arthur nodded, telling Jon to show his findings to Richard. Jon shut his book with a thud and then hugged his father one last time before getting to his feet, book firmly in his hands as he walked towards Ned to leave the godswood.  
“Don't hurt him.” Jon told him with a voice that left no room for protest or replies, “The gods are watching.” He added still and then vanished behind the corner of the wall that protected the garden from harsh sea winds.

“He holds grudges, silently and brooding.” Arthur gave a faint chuckle while Ned shook himself free of that moment to walk over to the older man, sitting down on the one stone bench while Arthur remained in the grass. “He didn't get that from me. Or Rhaegar.”  
“I think he got that from my father, that man could hold grudges deeper than the Narrow Sea as well.” Ned recalled, people from outside might have always said that Lord Rickard had Southern ambitions, whereas Ned and his siblings had always mused that their father couldn't find matches among his own bannermen because there wasn't a single one who hadn't pissed him off at one point or the other.

“I'm angry, you know...” Arthur began after a short pause and Ned met his eyes, “But the thing is that nothing you could say can make it go away. Not at the moment. Because it's not just about talking to Robert, that could have happened to a lot of people in the last years. My brother, Barristan or Jaime after they suspected it, Aurane could have stumbled over a sentence since he knew.” Arthur stopped for a moment, looked over at the weirwood tree, white bark and red leaves sticking out among the greenery and colorful flowers. “None of them were there though.”

And there he glanced up again, met Ned with the full power of disappointment in his eyes, and Ned knew he deserved it.

“You were there. You promised her, Ned. You promised Lyanna to keep Jon safe, to keep me and him safe from Robert. And I'm not even angry because you endangered my life by slipping up, what is my life worth compared to Jon's?” It sounded more like a question mumbled to himself but Ned still set to answer it anyway.

“Jon would not be the same if he lost you, none of your family would be. Your life is worth a lot, because yes, I was there. I was there as she lay dying and hence I know that my sister loved you, and that alone is reason why I should have been more careful in King's Landing. And I am sorry that I fucked it up.” Ned said and though Arthur nodded in response to it, Ned also knew that it would take time and a hopefully good outcome in King's Landing for Arthur to even consider forgiving him.

“Do you remember what you asked me back then?” Arthur questioned him, turning around a fallen leaf in his hands, “You will not raise him as a future king? Those were your words. And I told you no, I told you that I was done with all of it. I raised him as my son, my happy son.”  
“And you are doing a great job. He is a wonderful boy.” Ned replied and thought back to all those questions he had been confronted with already.

“I will not lose him, and if it means I have to leave all of this behind, then I will. Without a second's hesitation.”

\--

Families were difficult.

Really difficult and Jon wondered how someone was supposed to keep track of all of that without carrying pieces of paper everywhere they went. He had so many uncles and aunts and he didn't understand how that could be when his father only had three siblings.

And now Lord Stark had asked Jon to call him Uncle Ned like Torrhen did and Jon just didn't understand how that could in any way make sense. And Lord...Uncle Ned had asked Rhaena and Edric, too and how was that supposed to not be confusing...

Grunting a little, Jon pushed harder against the chair and then winced when it got moving with a terrible screeching sound in the otherwise quiet library. No one complained so he was truly alone then, he pushed the chair until it stood right against the bookshelf, it contained the fresh scrolls and papers that Maester Darvin used to teach them letters and numbers, and Jon was the only one allowed out of them to take one outside of lessons.

All the more mean to keep them so far up that Jon needed a chair to get them.

And the ink and feathers Maester Darvin kept at the tables all the time, made absolute no sense because Torrhen and Edric could do so much more stupid things with ink than with paper. A lot of stupid things.

Jon grabbed a long paper from the stack and then jumped down the chair again, dragging it and the paper back to the tables. He sat down at it and opened the book he has asked Uncle Andric for on the day before, it a thick one, full of names from Houses all over the Seven Kingdoms, and Jon needed it because he wanted to write the names of all these uncles right.

How to start...

A moment's thinking brought him to the conclusion that starting with himself would be a good idea, he wanted to do this to understand after all, so a wrote a neat little Jon into the middle of the paper and then made a straight line up and wrote his father's name, Arthur.

And then already he was more or less lost, he had a mother, everyone had a father and a mother, that was how it worked, even if Maester Darvin refused to explain to Jon where babies came from. Jon didn't know his mother's name though, nor did he know where she was and he had often already wondered how to ask his Papa about her. His Papa had already cried a little though when Jon had asked him why his friend, the Prince from the locket, had left him alone, Jon didn't want him to be even sadder when he asked about his mother. Torrhen had told him that grown ups had children when they loved each other, and people who loved each other did not want to lose each other.

His Papa must have loved Jon's mother, because they had him together, so his Papa was probably very sad that she wasn't with him. Jon wrote down an X and made a line to his Papa from it, maybe it was even better that he didn't know her, if she had siblings, too, Jon would have even more aunts and uncles and his head already got dizzy thinking about the ones he had running around.

When Jon heard the door opening a while later, his fingers were black with ink, he had needed to light a candle and then another because the sky had clouded over and stolen the good light, and he was kneeling on the chair so he could read better what was written in the book. Whoever had made the latest entries had had a terrible chickenscratch as writing, not unlike the one Torrhen called his own.

He looked up, still worrying his bottom lip between his teeth because he couldn't read the names of Lord Lucerys' sons. His father was frozen in the doorway, staring at him out of wide eyes as if he had seen a ghost and Jon quickly looked behind himself to make sure there was none before he turned back to his father. Ser Richard was there, too, but he was grinning and patting Jon's Papa's shoulder as he moved passed him.

“What are you doing here, stick?” Ser Richard asked him and Jon leaned to the side so he could look at his Papa first, his Papa who was shaking his head and dragging a hand down his face before smiling. Content that he was okay, Jon dropped back onto his knees on the chair and tapped the sheet of paper that he had filled with so many names already. And lines and arrows, all of them named.

“I have too many uncles.” He declared in the dry tone that he had worked hard on picking up from his Uncle Andric because it worked wonders when he was arguing with Torrhen. Ser Richard began to laugh and Jon was glad that he had never asked him to call him uncle, too, he acted like one but he was a good knight and knights had to be called by their titles, only his Uncle Benjen didn't want to understand that.

“Do you now? Never heard a lad complain about too many uncles before. Siblings for sure, but never uncles.” Ser Richard chuckled and dropped down into a chair next to Jon, curiously looking over Jon's work.   
“You don't have any siblings.” Jon thought aloud, “I looked you up.” He explained, grinning when his Papa came to stand behind him and grimaced at Jon's ink stained fingers. They would be scrubbed clean later, Jon would make sure of that, and he was always careful to never let any ink touch his clothes.

“You looked me up?” Ser Richard wanted to know and shared a smile with Jon's Papa who pulled up a chair on Jon's other side. “What did you look me up for?”  
“I am making myself an uncle tree.” Jon announced and Ser Richard looked so confused that Jon went on immediately, “Like a family tree, only with uncles and aunts. I have too many, and Papa has so many and at least half of them are not tied by blood to us and it's so confusing. Why do so many people want me to call them uncle? I was looking up so many people anyway, so I did for you as well.”

“Am I on that paper, too?”

“Yes, see, here.” Jon pointed to a dotted line he had made from his father to Ser Richard's name, had written 'friend' onto it, Ser Richard and his Papa exchanged another smile. Jon was actually glad that his Papa had come because something wasn't adding up in Uncle Andric's book. “Papa, your Uncle Lucerys said he has three sons, didn't he?” He asked and pointed at where he had written Lord Velaryon's name next to his grandmother's, his Papa's mother Lady Eleana, Lucerys hadn't been her brother but her cousin but apparently no one had been bothered by that and he was still Uncle Lucerys. He had looked up Lucerys Velaryon in the big book and then written down his wife's name, even if she was noted as having died, and then he had wanted to write down the names of his three sons to the three little lines he had made, because the children of your uncle were your cousins.

And if Jon's cousins were important to him, then his Papa's cousins must be important to him and hence Jon wanted them on his paper.

But then he had only found two sons in the book.

He said as much to his Papa who bit his lip before answering Jon's question to him, “Aye, Lucerys has three sons, Jon, but Lady Crivina was only mother to two of them.” His Papa explained and tipped a finger against the names,” Corlyn and Jacaerys.” Jon looked from those names back to his Papa and frowned, how did that work then?  
“Where did the third baby come from then? Did Lord Lucerys fish himself a boy from the sea?” He wondered, Lord Lucerys was a ship captain afterall, and smiled a little, especially when both, his Papa and Ser Richard, started laughing loudly.

“You gotta tell that to Aurane when you see him, Arthur, it fits so well.” Ser Richard was jesting and Jon's Papa was shaking his head, eyes half closed in laughter.  
“He'll enjoy it for sure. But no, Jon. Aurane, that's the name of Lucerys' youngest son, he is the son of another woman.” His Papa told Jon, prompting Jon to grab the writing feather and chew on the end of it.

Torrhen called that his important thinking face.

“But Lord Lucerys was married to Lady Crivina until she died. And he didn't marry again because it's not written down here.” There was something to figure out here, something Jon wanted to understand. Could grown ups get children when they weren't married?  
“That's all right, Jon.” His Papa replied to him, “Aurane is a bastard. Do you know what that means?” Both adults looked at him with serious eyes, as serious as Ser Richard could ever look like.  
“That he's a mean person?” He gave a guess, Ser Richard immediately got to laughing again, the only time Jon had ever heard someone call a bastard was when that stupid Gerold Dayne of High Hermitage had pushed him into the pool in the Water Gardens and Tyene had started yelling at him.

And Gerold was a stupid mean jerk.

“Unfortunately that's not it, my sweet boy, but I like that that's the first thing that comes to your mind. When a woman gives birth to a child and she is not married to the child's father, then that child is a bastard.” His Papa gave the explanation and Jon scrunched up his nose.  
“Is that a bad thing?” He wanted to know, it had to be at least not a good thing because if it was then the name of Lucerys' third son would be in the book, wouldn't it?

“That depends greatly on who you are asking.” The voice of his Uncle Oberyn could be heard approaching from the now open door, Jon craned his head back to watch him come closer. “You see, Jon, many people outside of Dorne think that only children born to married parents are worth something, they call them trueborn children. Like Robb Stark or your cousins Edric and Eleana. And those born without a marriage are called natural children, or bastards.”

“Like Torrhen and Rhaena?” Jon guessed because Aunt Ashara had not been written next to Brandon Stark in the book and Torrhen wasn't in it, nor was Rhaena.  
“Yes, like them. Or like my daughters.” Oberyn surprised him with his answer and Jon gaped at him, that had to mean then that being a bastard couldn't be a bad thing because Torrhen was great and Rhaena was the sweetest person Jon knew and Tyene was just...perfect. “You should ask Maester Darvin to explain to all of you tomorrow what a bastard is and what they are called throughout the Seven Kingdoms. You know what they are called in Dorne, hm?”

“Sand.” Because that was what Torrhen called himself and Rhaena, or what Obara and Lady Nym called themselves with. He leaned back over his paper to write down the names of Lord Lucerys' sons, hesitating when he came to this Aurane, “What's a bastard called on Driftmark?”  
“Needed a bigger ship again because my ego didn't fit.” Ser Richard chuckled and ducked away when Jon's Papa reached over Jon to clock him.

“Waters, Jon, they're called Waters in the Crownlands.”

\--

It didn't hit Jon until he was later playing with the others while the grown ups talked after dinner, his drawn out paper still on the table where his Papa had wanted him to present it to Uncle Andric and Lord...Uncle Ned.

He had been in the book. Written in black ink under his Papa's name. Jon wasn't a bastard, he wasn't a Sand, he was a Dayne.

But then why wasn't there a woman's name written next to his Papa's?

\--

He walked along the stone fundaments as if he was still standing in that room, stepped onto the remaining stairs as if he could still run up and be with her. To say one more word, to tell her one more time how much he loved her.

How much he loved a sister he hadn't seen grown up.

“He comes here with Jon often, you know.” The brother who had grown up away from him told him, watching his antics with a smile and Ned smiled right back at him, turning to sit down on the hacked away stairs. “Torrhen, too, sometimes, but the boy doesn't have the patience to sit here in peace. And this is not a playground to go explore in.”

No, it wasn't. It really wasn't.

A burned down tower ruin, the remains of a battlefield. Seven against two, where the tide had only turned in their favor because a third had not wanted to fight anymore. The only other thing in this desert space of the former Tower of Joy that wasn't rock was the pitiful sight of what had once surely been a beautiful olive tree.

Now grown twisted and showing the marks of an all powerful blade in every inch of bark still. If Benjen's words were to be believed, and Ned had no reason not to, this tree had become the victim of Arthur's grief over Prince Rhaegar.

“Jon doesn't know what this place is, does he?” He wanted to know, accepting the waterskin Benjen gave him before sitting down on a rock directly next to the stairs.  
“He knows it's a former watchtower that was important to Arthur, he hasn't asked any more questions. He can sense how difficult it is for Arthur to be here, but how much he needs to be here as well.” Benjen answered him with a smile, “He's so much like Lya sometimes.”

“I can see that.” Ned chuckled, “When they took out the horses yesterday and Jon swung himself up without a saddle and anything...gods, all I could see was her. And that look in his eyes when he bears you down with questions. And of course this arguing you into the ground, by the gods the kid is six.” Lyanna wasn't much older when she argued Brandon into giving her a bow.

“Apparently that's something he got from both of them, the look and the arguing skills. Sometimes though I fear, if I look too closely for resemblances, I'll stop seeing him for who he is. Jon's not them, and he'll never be, and I think that's good. He's picking up way more manners from the people he is surrounded with, especially from Arthur.” Benjen mused and Ned could only agree, in these times they had it was indeed better if the boy looked to Arthur for guidance instead of the people who gave him his blood. “Torrhen on the other hand. It's like my big brother got shrunk and stormy eyes replaced with violet ones.”

“Wolf's Blood in every inch of him, aye, I can see that, too.” Ned said and grinned over the memory of Torrhen and Robb trying to persuade Jon into doing something right as Ned and Benjen had left on horseback. “But Torrhen doesn't have the pressure of being the heir that Brandon had. If he wants his freedom, he will have it.” Ned had no doubt about it, Dorne was kind to bastards, especially those of noble birth.

Benjen was quiet for a moment, eyes set on a rock in the sand, and it drew on until Ned actually had to nudge him to start talking.

That at least was still so familiar, grown up with Brandon and Lyanna around who could talk for a whole crowd, Benjen had been happy to be quiet, a follower in his youth more than a leader. That had changed, his little baby brother was no more, no more little lordling Ben of Winterfell, the Silver Wolf of Dorne was the Captain of the household guard for Starfall and House Dayne now.

“I overheard Ashara and you talking yesterday. About Robert's threat to you.”

Ah, yes.

“He doesn't mean it.” He gave in reply and Benjen turned sharp eyes onto him, and as much as Jon Arryn had been pointing out that Dorne had changed his brother, Ned knew that it wasn't true. Benjen's blatant dislike for the Baratheon sitting on the Iron Throne had started much earlier, his new life had just given him the opportunity to no longer bite down on his feelings. “He is the King, Ben, you'd be smart to remember it sometimes.”

“And you'd be smart to remember sometimes what this man brought over us. Over the Targaryens. Over the Daynes. Over so many other Houses. I don't care if he is the King, I can speak my thoughts here and so I will. Robert is still an infantile idiot who to this day cannot handle the truth that Lyanna didn't want him, that in the end Lyanna even chose death over him! And now he is threatening to take Winterfell away from you because you lied to him over Arthur! You cannot possible sit there and tell me he is a just and good king.”

“He isn't going to take Winterfell away from me.” Ned pointed out quietly, even if his own stomach turned when he thought back to the words Robert had hissed at him the morning he had left King's Landing. Benjen huffed, twisting around to stare at him.  
“If he legitimizes Torrhen, which he can with a simple piece of paper, and does not place him behind yourself and your own children with another one, Winterfell belongs to Torrhen.” Benjen snapped out the words that Robert had similarly to him chosen himself. “The first son of the first son. Come on, Ned, you know how it works.”

Ned sighed and turned his face into the sun.

“Robert is not going to go through with it, he only wants me to get the lesson over not lying to him again.”

“Stop bloody defending him!” Benjen snarled out and jumped back to his feet, turning around so he could glare down at him, “Why can't you just for once stop being Robert's best friend and be a Stark again! It's been six years since the war ended and still Dorne and the Reach and the gods know how many more parts of these fucking Seven Kingdoms still see you as nothing more than Robert's honorable loyal attack dog.”

“I'm not...”

But Benjen hadn't even heard him or just chose to ignore it, ranting right on, as harsh as the words were, it felt good to see the fire in his little brother. Benjen had truly grown up and become a man, become a father who was ready to defend his family. His blood.

“What are you gonna do when your nephew, your sister's son, is going to stand before you some day in his future and ask you if you stand behind him? What are you gonna if Jon makes for his birthright and Robert demands the North to stand for him? Are you gonna call the banners against your own blood? Are you gonna face Jon and tell him that the Stark in him is always welcome at your table but the dragon has to die for it?”

“Ben, come on...”

“No, there is no 'come on' here. There is gonna be a day where you cannot be Jon's Uncle and Robert's best friend, and you cannot possibly be so ignorant as to not see that, too. I'm not gonna ask you to choose, it might as well be that Jon will never want to make for the throne, but the possibility is there and you need to be aware of that.” Benjen argued and Ned hung his head, eyes closed and a hand brought up to rub the back of his neck.

He knew the chance could come.

He liked to think until then there would be another way. A peaceful way, not another war.

“And what is this I hear about a sept in Winterfell? Have you lost your mind?” Benjen happily went on and this whole arguing had certainly been something he had grown skilled at in Dorne.  
“Cat asked for one.” He weakly explained and looked up at his brother again, Benjen was grimacing, “I have neither made any plans, nor did I give her any answer.”

“Well, Rodrik sounds quite convinced when he tells me that the people are talking about it. And that no one is happy about it. The North follows the old gods, brother, and Lady Stark should realize at some point that she is not a Tully anymore. If she thinks to raise her children as Southerners, the Lords of the North will not be happy. They were already not happy when you were fostered in the fucking Vale, I heard it all because no one ever bothered to look for little Benjen. If they consider Robb too Southern for them, if they catch wind of Robb not following our gods and the Seven instead, he won't be a Stark in their eyes. And gods behold if they somehow hear that there is a son of Brandon's who shuns the sept but kneels in front of the heart tree every single morning. On his own free will.”

“Do you want me to lose the North?”

“No.” Benjen corrected and still stared down at Ned with hard eyes that made him wonder for a amount who was the older one again, who was Lord and who was Knight. “But if you built a sept in the very heart of the North, you're gonna end up losing it all by yourself.”

For a long moment they were both silent and then Benjen huffed loudly and sat down again, anger successfully vented out. If only Brandon and Lyanna had ever been this simple to handle.

“How come Torrhen believes in gods but doesn't want to believe direwolves are real?” Ned asked after another bout of silence and Benjen snorted.  
“Escapes me, but he does. I know that our weirdwood tree is still small, three years old only but I know that it fills me with wonder whenever Torrhen comes with me, and I cannot wait to share it with Alys as well.” Benjen smiled and looked out West where Starfall laid.

“Jon doesn't come?”

“Jon goes alone, he doesn't want anyone there, it truly is something private for him. In the sept, too, or at least Ally tells me so. Like Father, you remember?” Benjen wanted to know and Ned smiled, “He always chased us out of the godswood, said a man's prayer was his own. And of course it was a good way to have five minutes to himself without either of his children talking his ears off.” They shared in their laughter and despite the cloud of doom that still somehow nudged at the back of Ned's conscience, it felt good to have this time with his brother.

With family.

\--

“Does the water ever come up so high?”

Jon looked down to where Robb was poking at the green stuff that covered the rocks outside the cave they were climbing around in. The cliffs around Starfall had a great many of those, some small, others really big and dark, and they weren't really supposed to go exploring them without some of the grown ups around.

But then again, Jon's Papa and even Uncle Andric had told them so many times that they didn't listen as little boys either and look at them, nothing ever happened. Jon was also aware that that excuse would not hold at all against Aunt Eyrin, so they always made sure to have a grown up around.

Usually Ser Richard.

He was not able to ever say no to Jon, or at least it looked like that. 

So Ser Richard would sit on the beach and watch their antics or he would even climb along with them. Today, while the real grown ups talked again, Ser Richard was sitting down by one of the big puddles the tide had left behind, feet down in the water while he watched Edric built a sandcastle.

“Only when it storms.” Torrhen called down in answer to Robb where he was furthest up as always, “The sea floods these caves then. We need to show you the ones by the river tomorrow, you can only go down there when the weather is good and the wind is low, otherwise you'll end up drowning because the river floods those caves too quickly to let you escape.” Robb snapped his eyes from Torrhen to Jon, awaiting some downplay of dramatics but Jon could only nod.

The Torrentine was dangerous, and it was nothing where you played. Only experienced sailors took their ships up the river and not even Lord Lucerys dared to go up there and he was an old captain who had spent a great many days out on sea.

“We're not getting any storms though, so we're fine here.” He comforted Robb, they had become fast friends, even if it Torrhen who was Robb's cousin and not Jon. He held out a hand for Robb to take and then pulled him up onto the next rock before both of them waited for Torrhen to help them along.

“When you come North to visit me, I will show you the old bear caves near Winterfell. They're not in any danger of getting flooded but my Father says that when winter comes you can get snowed in there.” Robb explained to them and Jon knew Torrhen was watching him then just as curiously as Jon was, every mention of snow sounded like a fairytale, like something you wouldn't believe until you actually got to touch it. Contrary to Torrhen, Jon believed Robb's stories about white frozen water, Robb wouldn't lie and Lord...Uncle Ned wouldn't lie either, so it had to be true. “We don't have winter though, nothing can happen.”

They climbed on and then slipped down into the cave, the sun was high up enough that they could see easily still and Ser Richard would fetch them if it got too dark.

Crammed up in a nook in the stone, Torrhen pulled out the lemoncakes he had sweet-talked the maid into giving him.

“I found out who wrote Mama's letter.” Torrhen also finally got out with the secret he had wanted to tell him, the reason he had dragged them down to this cave.  
“Torrhen, you can't just grab her letter. It's not yours.” Jon complained, even if he was curious himself, Aunt Ash hadn't stopped smiling since Uncle Ned had given her the letter. Jon had even caught her singing twice in the garden, she was wearing a flower in her hair again and her dresses seemed to be brighter than usual as well.

“I didn't take the letter.” Torrhen clarified, scowling at Jon for a moment before falling back into his gleeful smirk, he leaned closer to them still, “I heard Uncle Andric teasing Mama about it.”  
“Who is it?” Robb pushed because he, too, had already realized that unless you goated him into getting to the point, Torrhen could make a drama out of everything.

“Barristan Selmy.”

Jon's mouth dropped open and he saw Robb gaping as well.

“Ser Barristan of the Kingsguard?” Robb demanded to know and Torrhen nodded, they had played at nothing else in the last days than who could be Ser Barristan and Jon was so thankful that his Papa had at some point told them more stories about foes that Ser Barristan Selmy had fought because he was getting quite tired of explaining to Torrhen that he was NOT going to play at being Maelys the Monstrous.

His Papa had even told him that he had fought alongside Ser Barristan at some point and it was way more fun to play at being Papa than being stupid Maelys. 

“How does your Mama know Ser Barristan?”

“I don't know.” Torrhen told them with a shrug of his shoulders, breaking off another piece of lemoncake and speaking around it, Jon scrunched up his nose, “But she was at court with Princess Elia, wasn't she? Didn't Maester Darvin say that when you asked about her, Jon? Maybe they met there?”

“We could ask Ser Richard.” Jon decided as his head made the connection, Ser Richard had known the Prince from Jon's locket just like his Papa had, and the Prince had been married to Princess Elia, so maybe Ser Richard had known Ser Barristan, too. Together the three of them scrambled up and to the cave's entrance again, three heads popping up over the edge of it to look down at the Knight playing with Edric still.

Ser Richard felt their eyes on him, or he must have for he turned around and looked up at them just as Jon made to call him.

“Oh, bloody hells, what am I getting in trouble for this time?” He called up to them and Jon exchanged a look with Torrhen and Robb before all three of them were grinning, down below in the sand Ser Richard went a little paler.

\--

Starfall had a crypt, though their dead were burned so their souls may go and be with the stars, the ashes of Daynes of old were placed in urns and set into alcoves in the crypt. They didn't have great statues, not even the old Kings of the Torrentine, just names on plates, and still it was a place of memory and great respect. Mourning and remembrance.

As a child, Arthur had shied away from the crypt, had even only reluctanly ventured down with his family on the day of remembering the dead. The gods, the Seven, the afterlife, all of that had gone straight over Arthur's head, there was enough to worry about in life, who had room left to think about the dead and their comfort as well.

But then he had lost so many important people in his life in only eight years and rememering the dead had turned into another honor.

He walked down the stairs smiling now, his heart a little heavier but still not choking him. He briefly stopped at Lady Dyanna's plate as he always did, even before he had worn a white cloak or any knight's cloak at all. Rather than placing his wife's remains in the royal crypt in King's Landing, then Prince Maekar had decided for his treasured love to be returned home, fully well knowing that he would one day rest below the Red Keep and not with her.

But somehow Arthur doubted that either of them was still looking.

Further down then, he leaned back against the wall so he could look upon his parents' graves. A not completely dried out white rose next to his mother's urn showed that Lucerys' last visit had not been so long ago.

“I wonder what you would think if you could see me now. See us now.” He mumbled quietly and then sighed, he had come down to think, to be allowed to hurt without anyone immediately offering to reach out to him. “I love the boy. I love him so much and I know not a day anymore where I didn't feel like his father, but making it official? Walking out of Dorne and letting the whole realm know that he is my son? I don't know if I'm ready for that.”

He dragged a hand through his hair and then quickly flattened it back down, knowing how much his mother had always wanted his hair to look neat.

“I don't care for my honor, gods, to all Seven hells with my honor and my vows. They didn't keep anyone save, nor did they make me happy. But what about Rhaegar's? What about Lyanna's? The Seven Kingdoms believe him to be a rapist and a kidnapper, and she the helpless victim who was ripped away from her family. And the people who don't believe that? They call her a whore. And now, I'm going to ride for King's Landing, I'm gonna face a King I hate from the bottom of my heart and I will have to tell him that Rhaegar kidnapped Lyanna, but that we fell in love while I protected her from him...that she had my child...”

Arthur took a shuddering breath and looked at the runs of his parents. They had found their rest, a grave in the place they always thought their home. Even Lyanna had gone home, her bones resting in the crypts of Winterfell with the father and brother she had mourned so deeply for. One day he would ride North and would pay his respects to her as well, show her statue to Jon.

Only Rhaegar...

Rhaegar's ashes were spread into the river he had died in.

“It hurts.” Arthur admitted to his parents' ashes, “It hurts to even think about it, it's treason to the memories of them. But what choice do I have? I need to keep Jon safe, and I'll give everything for it, every last edge of honor I ever had. Now I only need to ask some strength of you, some hope so that I may be persuasive in this mummer's show.”

\--

Aurane didn't raise his head when the door at the far end of the corridor opened and heavy booted steps could be heard descending down the stairs and into the torch lit long path far under the city. He took another sip from the flask, rejoicing in the burning going down his throat like wildfire flames, offering the only warmth he could feel in these days.

Armor clinkered as the man approaching him moved closer, sword at his hip, ends of the white cloak dusting over the ground just so, Aurane could imagine it all without having to look.

“It's not truly a good place to get horribly drunk.” Was the greeting he got and Aurane grunted in a first response, rebellious to the bone when he simply turned seagreen eyes towards blue ones and made a grand show of taking another sip of burning moonshine.  
“I'm not drunk.” He snarled quietly in the aftermath of it before setting his eyes straight ahead again, looking over the plates of names.

Especially over the one plate that covered an empty hole in the wall.

“You're well on your way to get drunk.”

As it turned out, not even in the crypts of the Red Keep he was allowed a moment of peace and silence while the city and court looked at him as if he personally had hidden Arthur Dayne in a closet for six years.

“What is it to you, Selmy? Am I to be arrested after all? Thrown from the city? Good luck getting Stannis back in time to plan a strategy against the Ironborn.” Aurane grouched, it was a relief and a slight at the same time to know that the only reason he hadn't been asked to leave King's Landing yet was the nearing Rebellion of the Ironborn. Balon Greyjoy hadn't yet make any official announcements but all news they had pointed to him having proclaimed himself King of the Iron Islands.

Aurane couldn't wait to see his ships sink.

He was useful. As much as the King and the Hand as well wanted to throttle him for his connections to Arthur these last weeks. He was useful and he was bloody good at what he did.

“Would Rhaegar appreciate seeing you like this?” Ser Barristan had the nerve to ask, walking over to the wall and briefly laying a hand on the plate with Rhaegar's name, the plate that was a lie.  
“Good for me then that Rhaegar isn't here, but I'll keep it in mind the next time I go drinking in the bloody Trident.” It was a low blow, Aurane knew it, but he was deep enough in his cups already to not care anymore.

He had barely slept since Lannister's revelation that the King knew about Arthur. He was watched like a hawk whenever he left the Red Keep and it was a miracle those blasted idiots calling themselves Baratheon guards hadn't actually walked down into the crypts with him. He knew his father and maybe even his brother must have been turning over with worry by now, ever since the war had ended...no, ever since Jace had left, his father wanted to know where his sons were.

An easy task for Corlyn who never left Driftmark anyway, Aurane wrote as regularly as he could when he wasn't on a ship, but now he hadn't written in over seven weeks and his father had to be going crazy. And he would have written, but every letter going from the Red Keep would be read by Pycelle first and Aurane wouldn't let him pry into family matters, and the Inn owner down at the harbor miraculously didn't have any ravens on hand whenever Aurane came by.

Varys for sure.

Or his fucking little birds.

He was tired, so tired but whenever he closed his eyes he saw Dawn falling from Arthur's hand and a warhammer being slammed against his chest.

Hands pulled him off the ground and only then was it that Aurane noticed he had closed his eyes and slumped back against the wall.

“Come on, Aurane.” Ser Barristan sighed and supported him when Aurane's too drunk ass couldn't hold himself up anymore. “You had enough.”  
“You don't have to do this.” Aurane mumbled and closed his eyes for a moment when the world spun a little. The stairs looked awfully steep and long.

“I know that. But your father is my friend and I promised him a long time ago that I would keep an eye on you. And Arthur would want me to as well.” Ser Barristan explained and somehow hauled Aurane up the stairs. He was glad the sun had gone down in the hours he must have spent down in the crypts, staring at the names of Rhaegar, Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon and hating his helplessness to do anything about the revenge he wanted so much.

“If Robert does anything to Arthur as well, I will run him through with a sword.”

“And that just earned you a night locked in my room in the White Sword Tower until you're sober again when something like this would not come out loud from your mouth.”

\--

“I would rest at Summerhall for two days until you start the rest of the ride. You know the area well and the ruins will still give you good shelter no matter how the weather looks. Shelter that keeps you out of the eyes of any Lords on the way until you reach King's Landing.” Andric set a pin into the map rolled out over the table in his solar, walking around Arthur to trace his finger towards the Kingsroad, Arthur was still too busy staring at the point named Summerhall. “From there I would advise you to move directly to the Kingsroad so you'll take a secured...are as secure as it can be...path through the Kingswood.”

He couldn't even count the times...the days and nights spent in those ruins, hours that easily were among the happiest moments of his life. This dreaded haunted place but Rhaegar had even been happier there than at Dragonstone. How many times had they ridden out to find solace there? To give Rhaegar a moment without the ever lasting eyes following every move he made. To breathe over Aerys' rising paranoia. To vent anger without anyone listening in.

How terrible were the stories about Summerhall's ending...how many people had lost their life that night? How many great warriors? How many great minds?

And in the midst of all that pain and torment Rhaegar drew his first breath.

“Once you reached the Kingswood I see no problem anymore, at least not for the actual travelling. Those people think you to be their Warrior reborn. Can't imagine how they'll react when they see you again. The rest of the way to the capital should obviously be easy, you know those roads like the back of your hand still and Richard will know how to keep the party off the main road to get to the Eastern Gate...Arthur?”

Wildfire had ruined the castle, but even the ruins still told about how grand it had been, how beautiful compared to the fortress that the Red Keep was. In Arthur's mind, the Summerhall of his imagination had looked like the palace worthy of a great king. And it had been so easy to lie on a cloak in the great hall and watch the stars through the ruined ceiling, listening to Rhaegar sing or tell stories of old.

And when he walked the old halls, explored on curious feet, he would always wonder in those first times if the last Dayne who had walked the same path had been Lady Dyanna herself.

“Arthur!”

He snapped his head up and looked at annoyed blueish purple eyes, for a moment believing he was faced with his long dead father instead of his older brother. Aside from the wrong hair color, Andric looked so much like Lord Beric in that moment in his solar.

“Are you even listening to me?” Andric wanted to know, voice getting a little more snappish, Arthur straightened up and dragged hands over his face to clear his head.  
“No, I'm not, sorry, Andric.” He apologized in almost only a whisper and then looked away when his brother's face fell. Andric walked around the table again and drew him in with an arm around Arthur's shoulders, letting Arthur drop his tired head against his shoulder.

“Talk to me, little brother. What's wrong?”

“If something happens...”

“Arthur, don't...”

“No, Andric, I need this.” Arthur argued with a little more fire than he had used in his voice since his outbreak in the initial planning meeting, “If something happens to me, you need to promise me that you'll do everything to keep Jon safe.”

“Everything will be fine.”

“The boy must be the priority.” He went on as if Andric hadn't spoken at all, “I don't care what happens to me as long as I know that he is safe and that Robert will not get his fingers on him.”  
“Okay, listen to me now.” Andric cut over him when Arthur wanted to say more still, grabbing his face with strong determined hands that left no room to struggle, “I know that you've been born a pessimist but have some hope for once. Everything is gonna be okay.”  
“The last time I had hope and it involved Robert Baratheon, he killed Rhaegar.” Arthur pointed out and Andric sighed, “Just please promise me, brother.”

“I will make sure the boy is safe, I promise you. He's my nephew, he's family, but do not believe that I will just turn my back on you.” Andric went on after his promise, tightening his hold on him when Arthur dropped his gaze away from him, “I staid in Dorne's borders throughout the Rebellion and I regret it to this day. Holding Oberyn back instead of riding with him. If another King sitting the Iron Throne thinks to take a Dornish hostage, we will not be sitting back again.”

“I'm not worth...”

“You are.” Andric protested, taking his hands from Arthur's face to his shoulder and steering him over to one of the chairs in the room. Under the pressure of his brother's hands, Arthur had no choice but to sit down, whining in complaint when Andric knelt down in front of him. “You made a promise to your Lyanna to keep the boy safe, I get it, little brother. And I know you love the boy and want him to be only the happiest child in these kingdoms. But I made promises, too. I promised father to look after you, to make sure that you don't get lost in your own self doubts. The day the raven came with news of Rhaegar's death, I knelt down in the Sept and I promised Rhaegar that I'll now be the big brother I could never be before and that I will protect you. You will come back, do you hear me?”

Arthur nodded.

“Okay, good, now let's get back to planning the route to King's Landing if you don't mind. Let at least one of us sleep for as long as it takes you to reach the capital.” Andric patted his knees and then got back to his feet, only to freeze a short second later and look back down at Arthur, “You know secret places in Summerhall, don't you?” Andric wanted to know as if hit by a sudden thought.

“Sure, plenty.”

“If something goes down in the capital against you and Aurane can't get you out on sea, ride to Summerhall and hide.” Andric proposed to him and Arthur raised an eyebrow, hiding in the ruins of a Stormland castle when a Stormlander King wanted his head? Andric must have seen his doubt written all over his face because he went on, “How many people are left at court who know where Rhaegar used to hide out in?”  
“Barristan.” Arthur said after a short moment of thinking about it, “And you don't think he's a threat?”

“Have you seen your sister the day after she read his letter?”

Arthur had, he was still busy trying to eradicate it from his memories.

“Barristan Selmy is not our enemy. I wouldn't go ahead and trust him but he will not come after you, or at least give you a headstart and go on false trails if Robert orders him to.” Arthur wasn't sure if Andric wanted to sound comforting or practical, it didn't exactly work on both accounts. He still didn't know what to think about having to face Barristan and Jaime soon, only six years ago they had been his sworn brothers still, even if Arthur hadn't seen them in the last year of Aerys' reign.

A knock on the door distracted him from his thoughts and after Andric called out to come in, the opening door revealed Ned Stark.

“I hope I am not intruding...”

“No, not at all, come in, Ned.” Andric spoke with a smile in his voice, tapping fingers against the map on his desk for Arthur to look over while he turned to face Ned Stark, “Can I help you with anything?”  
“Aye, I was wondering if there could be a ship arranged to take Ser Rodrik and my son to White Harbor. I would not want to drag Robb back to the capital, not under these changed circumstances.” Ned Stark explained and Arthur only briefly glanced at him before he grabbed a pin and set it into Summerhall and the biggest of the Kingswood villages, finishing up the trail they would take to King's Landing.

“Of cours, I will send my cousin down to the harbor on the morrow and see if a ship can be found. If not, then Ser Rodrik and Robb are welcome to remain here until passage can be arranged.” Andric gave reply to Ned's demand and then invited him to look over their travel plans with them.

The petty part in Arthur that he liked to ignore as much as possible was miffed over the gesture, wanted to keep the rare time he had with his brother in private in the last days, but Ned Stark was their only way into the mind of the King and he was a friend as well. Going with him over details would do good as well to Arthur's frail nerves.

\--

On the evening before his departure from Starfall, Arthur looked up in surprise when it knocked on his door as he set the last things into a bag and pulled the strings tight on top of it. After his quiet call in, the door opened, revealing tired violet eyes in a small long face.

“What are you doing up again?” He wondered and crouched down when Jon shuffled over after closing the door again, “I put you to bed an hour ago, little wolf.” Jon wrapped arms around his neck and leaned against him, Arthur frowned, Jon wasn't the kind of child to sneak out past bedtime.

“I don't want you to go, Papa.” Jon whispered then and Arthur's already aching heart broke all together into sharp little pieces, he pulled Jon into his arms and picked him up. He set the bag from his bed onto the ground and then settled with Jon under the blanket. “I heard them say that the King is mad at you and that you have to go to apologize.”

Curse the ears of children and the too noisy mouths of maids.

“I fear I don't have a choice, Jon.” He told his son who only tightened his hold on him so Arthur stroked soothing hands over his back. “I don't want to go either, but there are some things that happened in the past that you cannot understand yet, not even a smart boy like you. I have to go to King's Landing and talk with the king, but I'll come back to you.” Gently he pulled Jon away from his neck and looked down at watery violet eyes, “I'll always come back to you, you hear me?” Jon nodded but the reluctance was written all over his face.

And then came something Arthur would have never expected for a moment like this, would have never wanted for the night before they were parted for the first time ever in Jon's young life.

The question of all questions.

“Papa...” Jon began and then bit his lip, clearly hesitating, so Arthur softly nudged him to go on, “Papa, what happened to my mother? Why was she never with us?” Arthur closed his eyes, knew Jon would be watching but he had to take a moment to breathe, felt those words echoing around his mind like steel against steel.

It broke his heart's pieces even more then, those next words he had to say to his son, but he couldn't face the alternative.

“When I come back, we'll talk about your mother, I promise.”

He wanted something better than the night before he rode for the capital, rode for court, rode to face a king who hated him. Jon sighed but pushed his head back down against Arthur's shoulder and then went so quiet that he was surely intending to go to sleep. Arthur knew more than ever that he wouldn't be able to catch a single hour of sleep that night, so he wrapped both arms around the boy, laid down on the bed with him and sent a wish up to the stars.

'Lya, Regg, Mother, Father, please bring me home to him again.'

\--

His Papa left early the next morning, together with Uncle Ned, Uncle Ben, Aunt Ash, Ser Richard and some guards. Jon watched them ride off from Uncle Oberyn's arms, not crying but feeling awful all the same. Papa had sometimes left for the day when they had still been in Volantis but he had always come back for the night, he had always been there to bring Jon to bed.

And now he would be gone for three moons.

Three whole moons at least.

And he would meet with people who didn't like him, Jon had heard the maids whisper about it and he didn't like it at all.

After his Papa had left with the others, it was at first okay, Rhaena was sad that her Mama had left, too, and Torrhen and Robb convinced Ser Carral and Ser Rodrik to go riding with them all. And then they climbed down to the caves at the cliffs and Torrhen told them scary stories that scared Rhaena and Edric, so Jon told one that had Torrhen go pale.

Jon went to his lessons and if he was a bit more quiet than usually and didn't ask any questions for once, Maester Darvin didn't say anything about it.

It was in the evening that he missed his Papa again, Aunt Eyrin chased them all through baths to get scrubbed clean and then it was her who put Jon to bed. There was no story because his aunt had to put all children to bed and Eleana was already crying again, Jon was left alone with Meraxes sleeping at the foot of his bed and him wide awake.

What would happen to him if his Papa didn't come back? Papa had promised that he would come back but what if the King wouldn't let him? Papa couldn't go against the King. Where would Jon go if his Papa didn't come back?

He sniffled as he walked along the darkened corridors then, he was supposed to be asleep but he was so scared and he needed to know that the King wouldn't take his Papa away. Torrhen and Robb were asleep, Robb would soon leave on a ship with Ser Rodrik to go back home and Jon was glad they had promised each other that Torrhen and Jon would come visit Robb in Winterfell.

But if his Papa didn't come back, Jon might not be able to visit him because he had to leave somewhere else.

Aunt Ally had Alys and Jon didn't want to bother her or wake the baby, even if she gave the second best hugs after his Papa. He couldn't go to Aunt Eyrin because she had a baby, too, and she would be angry because she had put Jon to bed and Jon had stood up again.

But Jon couldn't sleep and he was scared, and he didn't want the King to take his Papa away, and maybe Uncle Ben and Aunt Ash and Ser Richard wouldn't come back, too, and then Torrhen and Rhaena would lose their Mama and Alys would lose her Papa, and she was just a baby. Torrhen always told him to stop thinking so much, that he was already being too old for a boy.

Right now as he slipped past a drowsy guard out of the family apartments, Jon didn't want to be the big boy he always said he was. He wanted his Papa to come back and be there and not gone to a King who was mad at him.

He could quickly see the light that came from behind the half open door of the Lord's solar and hurried forward, relieved to know that he had not guessed wrong and Uncle Andric would still be up. Jon stopped at the door and carefully peeked around it, catching sight of his uncle sitting behind his desk, looking through letters. He wrapped the black cloak tighter around himself and made to take a step forward when a voice spoke up.

“Do you think we ought to get worried about Aurane yet?” It was Uncle Oberyn who asked and Jon guessed that he was sitting on the settee because he couldn't see him on either of the chairs in front of the desk. Uncle Andric sighed and brought a hand up to wipe over his face, he looked tired and worried and Jon's stomach went all tight and weird. “It's been nearly two moons since Lucerys heard from him. Aurane has no allies at court, and anyone with a little more brains than the king knows about the ties between the Daynes and the Velaryons.”

“Neither King Robert nor Jon Arryn can risk Aurane right now, or any time in the future really. Not as long as the realm is slipping into an Ironborn Rebellion. Aurane is only seven and twenty but he holds the respect of the Crownland Fleet Captains like no other. King Robert will need ships to go against Greyjoy, and he has ships that will not follow him or his brother if Aurane is not steering the flagship of the fleet.”

Jon wasn't sure he really understood everything Uncle Andric was saying, he did barely know who Aurane was, but it sounded serious. And bad.

“So you think there will be war?” Uncle Oberyn pressed and Uncle Andric nodded before he answered with words, pushing some letters to the side.  
“There will be. I spoke to the Yronwood brothers a fortnight ago, Carral met some Redwyne men a few days ago. Lord Balon has crowned himself and it's only a matter of time until the Crown hears of it.” Uncle Andric explained and Jon could feel himself sniffling again.

Had his Papa ridden off to war? Was the King mad because he thought Papa was to blame for the war? But Papa had been here in Dorne all this time and the Iron Islands were so far away.

“Jon? Is that you?” Uncle Andric suddenly asked and Jon jumped, banging his head against the door and letting it fall open. With wide eyes he stared at both his uncles, tearing up over the dull pain in his head and the panic in his chest. “Why aren't you in bed?”  
“Why did Papa have to go?” Jon knew it was nowhere an answer to what Uncle Andric had asked him but somehow his mouth hadn't been able to say anything else but those words, his uncle's face went all soft and he pushed himself away from his desk on his chair.

“Come here, Jon.”

Scrambling forward, Jon let himself be picked up and placed into Uncle Andric's lap, leaning back against his chest, from the settee Uncle Oberyn was smiling at him.

“There was a Prince before you were born, Jon, a Prince that your father cared very much about.” Uncle Andric began and Jon raised the cloak he had knotted around his neck and pulled out the locket he would not take off until his Papa returned. “Yes, that Prince. He was your father's best friend but the King we have now, he didn't like this Prince and he killed him in a fight.”  
“That's why all the dragon sigils have to be hidden.” Jon mumbled, he had cornered Maester Caleotte in the Water Gardens during their last visit because the man answered him every question whereas Maester Darvin always told him he was too young still.

“It is one of the reasons why the Targaryens are hated by so many now, yes.” Uncle Andric continued, stroking over Jon's back and it made him so sleepy, “The King has now learned that your father is back in Westeros.” Must be a slow king if he only knew it now, they had been back for a whole year already, but Jon kept that thought to himself, it was not proper to insult the king, “And the King has questions he wants to ask your father.”

“When Lady Larra of House Blackmont had a question for you, you didn't have to ride to her.” Jon pointed out and looked up at the eyes of his uncle, over by the settee Uncle Oberyn was laughing.  
“Lady Larra isn't the King, now is she?” Uncle Andric wanted to know and Jon shook his head, “Lords and Ladies write letters when they have questions but when the King asks you to come and explain something, you ride to the capital. It's called the chain of command, Jon, you show respect to those you stand above you.”

Jon was left thinking for a moment, needing to sort some things out and Uncle Andric let him, “And what if the King is not happy with what Papa has to say?”  
“That, my dear little nephew, is not something you will have to bother yourself with.” Uncle Andric made clear and pushed a hand through Jon's hair, “That's stuff grown ups have to deal with but I am sure that the King will not be unhappy with what your father has to say. You'll see, Jon, he'll be back in no time and then I'm sure he'll have lots of stories to tell. Okay?”

“Okay.” Jon whispered his understanding, slumping back against his uncle's chest and closing his eyes, he didn't want to go back up and his uncle didn't make him, just curled an arm around him and wrapped the cloak higher up so Jon was warm and comfortable. Jon was almost asleep when Uncle Oberyn spoke up again, and he was barely able to listen.

“The quiet acceptance, that is all Arthur, but that mind in that little head? All Rhaegar, smart beyond his years. Too smart even maybe, he'll soon figure things out that might hurt him.”

“Then we have to make sure it won't hurt.” Uncle Andric answered those weird words and then Jon didn't hear anything anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And off to King's Landing we are.  
> Next time, Arthur meets friends and foes in the capital and Andric deals with moopy children in Starfall.  
> Also a kiss...or even two?


	5. Part III.1 - The First Confrontation

“You can still turn around.”

Arthur snorted and looked up where Ned sat down across from him at the small campfire, aside from the guards standing watch, they were the only ones still awake.  
“And be branded a coward by Robert Baratheon?” He asked, stopping the hand that was wiping Dawn cleaner than she had ever been. “I don't think so.”

“Robert doesn't think you a coward, he never did.” Ned said quietly, everyone in their travel group but Richard and Arthur had grown tense and silent since the moment they had laid eyes on Summerhall and then proceeded to set up camp just outside the old stable building. As it had been mostly untouched by the destruction of the wildfire, their horses could be distributed among the boxes instead of being tied to a pole.

Once night had fallen and with bellies full of the rabbits Richard had quickly caught in the small forest outside the castle grounds, it was Arthur who couldn't shut his mind up enough to sleep.

“I don't really care what he sees me at. What I care about is him believing my word and letting me live the rest of my life in peace. Within Dorne's border if I have to.” Arthur reacted to Ned's weak argument and only briefly glanced over to him. It would still take time until he could think about forgiving Ned, of course he had known that someday they might have needed to come up with some story to not keep Jon tied to Dorne with a leash, but he would have preferred to have had control over it.

“I regret what I did...” Ned began and Arthur couldn't help but snort, having Ned blink and stop in surprise.

“Regrets are a dangerous thing, Ned.” Arthur pointed out and slowly got to his feet, rolling his shoulders to get rid of a crick in his neck, “They can't undo what has been done, they're not apologies and they don't help you move on.” He counted it all down, words that his own father had spoken to him long ago, words that he had himself once spoken to a guilt ridden Aurane after Jacaerys had been gone.

“So you don't have any regrets?” Ned wanted to know and Arthur nearly laughed all ugly and twisted, once upon a time his life had been filled with regrets, but then the Stranger had taken more and more of his heart until only a stump had remained and he had found himself on the roof of the white house in Volantis. Realizing that all but one had poofed away into nothingness.  
“Oh, I do. Exactly one.” Arthur said quietly as he picked up Dawn and swung her to be sheathed at his back before looking down at Ned Stark's face again in the light of the fire, “Not having been there to ram Dawn into Robert Baratheon's heart after he killed the man who deserved to be king, the man I loved.”

Not giving Ned the chance to come up with an answer to that, Arthur turned and strode off towards the darkness of the castle ruins. He wouldn't need a torch, the stars were bright enough in this night and outside of the collapsed tunnels Arthur knew every inch of the castle grounds.

He passed through the wide open space of the Great Hall, the place most ravaged, the ceiling blown straight off, for it had been here that the wildfire catasstrophe had been lit. And as he stopped for a moment and closed his eyes, he could almost hear Rhaegar's voice again.

It was not the Great Hall, he sought out now to find a place to get some hours of sleep far away from the others. Instead he moved through old blackened corridors until he reached the staircase at the very back of the castle, a tree had grown through a collapsed hole in the wall and he needed to push branches to the side as he moved up the stairs. The old watchtower that overlooked the view towards the Dornish Marches stood tall and stable still, had been far enough from the brunt of the fire that not too much had been destroyed, contrary to the North Tower where Arthur would still advise everyone from not venturing inside.

Once he was up on top, he unsheathed Dawn again and sat down in the small alcove of the window, back to the side, face turned out into the nightsky, eyes looking out over the long rolling hills to watch the very distant shapes of the Red Mountains. He brought his thoughts back home, back to Jon.

“I'll come home to you, I promise you, little wolf.” He whispered at the stars, fingers pulling out the wooden star he kept on a string around his neck. He traced the edges and smiled at the nodges in the wood. Torrhen and Jon had both begged Benjen into showing them how he did the wooden figurines of theirs, but quickly then both boys had had to realize that wood carving was not really something they were old enough for yet. Torrhen had given up entirely and Jon had pushed himself through finishing his star only because Benjen had helped him.

Despite the not so enthusiastic process, Jon had still been proud when he had later turned up with the star that Allyria had put on a string for him. 'For you' He had said, smile brighter than the sun in the sky and Arthur had never wanted to stop thanking him.

He hoped Jon was doing okay now, that the other kids could distract him and that he knew that Oberyn or Andric would always be there for him as well.

Arthur also thought ahead, thought about coming face to face with Robert Baratheon, about how he would say to him what he had to say. How did you step in front of the person whose actions cost you two people you had loved more than a heart should without breaking? Even more still, he wondered though about coming face to face with Barristan and Jaime, what he would think when he saw them, what they in turn would see in him.

And Aurane.

A year ago, Arthur couldn't have liked it more if seeing annoying always talking Aurane could be pushed back as far as possible. Now, he wanted nothing more than to find him as quick as possible once he had set foot into the Red Keep, to be sure that his ongoing silence towards Lucerys and Corlyn was just a tactical move and not cause for worry.

And then there was that last small hope, that last tiny wish for the next fortnight, that one wish he hoped to be able to get if everything went according to Andric's and Oberyn's plan. One more person of old that Arthur wanted to talk to.

All in the name of Dorne.

Steps on the stairs made him look up and then weakly smile when Richard appeared from beneath the branches. “I heard you arguing with Stark.” He said in explanation, sitting down across from Arthur once the older man had shifted his legs, “Saw you storm off then.”  
“I didn't storm off.” Arthur protested quietly, “I just needed to stop him from apologizing a few dozen times more. I understand that he wants to apologize, that he didn't mean to put us all into this situation but he did, and until I have it in black and white that I will see my son again, I cannot start thinking about forgiving him.”

Richard took his answer in silence and then stared down at the blown away castle walls.

“Can't sleep?” Arthur guessed after another moment and sighed when Richard nodded, “Yeah, me neither.” He had always gotten along well with both of Rhaegar's squires from their first days of being wide eyed boys not knowing how to not stutter over words and steps in the presence of the Crown Prince. They had been his squires in a way, too, Rhaegar had often not had the time for the finesse of the sword training part of the whole deal, politics swallowing him up, so that had fallen to Arthur.

Instead of being dragged along as unknowing shadowfigures, Myles and Richard had always known what was played at, they had been trusted and had in turn been loyal.

“I keep forgetting that he killed Myles, too.” Richard confessed and one of his hands curled into a fist, “Rhaegar knighted him not a two days before the Battle of the Bells, Myles wanted to fight and Rhaegar didn't want him to die a squire.” He explained and Arthur nodded, understood so well. “Myles was only sixteen...No one writes stories over the little ones later, no one remembers their names.”

“We do.” Arthur told him softly and Richard looked over to him again, “We will remember them, and one day Robert Baratheon will get justice.”  
“Thought you didn't believe in the Seven and the Father's Justice.” Richard prodded into Arthur's utter lack of faith in the Seven, not that it was any different for Richard really.

“I don't, but I believe in Jon's sense for justice.” Arthur admitted, maybe a little reluctantly, continuing when he saw Richard's frown, “I stand by what I said, that I will have no one plotting to collect armies and loyalties until Jon says those words. Until he says he wants the throne. But aside from all of that, I see Jon and I see how his mind works. He does not like unfairness or slights, he doesn't like it when people cheat or use cheap tricks.” Torrhen got to feel that about twice a sennight, “And when he sees someone being treated poorly or unfairly, he wants justice to be dealt. I don't know what will happen but...justice will come, in some way or other.”

\--

The first thing Oberyn heard when he stepped into the private gardens for the Lord family of Starfall was a huff that Arthur had dubbed Jon's 'Torrhen sound'.

“No” it came next, Jon's tone edging on annoyed and Oberyn curiously peered around the edge of the castle wall. He found the boys standing across from each other, wooden swords held at their sides, Edric looking between them and Rhaena sitting on a blanket in the shadow of an olive tree, the girl more interested in playing with Vhagar. Up in the tree, Meraxes was watching the whole thing with lazy blinking eyes.

“You have to!” Torrhen argued against his cousin, all with wild hand gestures and furrowed eyebrows, across from him Jon looked entirely unimpressed.  
“I don't have to do anything.” Jon stated as given fact and Torrhen growled in frustration, Oberyn hoped he wasn't trying to convince Jon again to play the last Blackfyre pretender. Torrhen's ear for history started with great warriors and immediately ended there as well again.

And ever since Jon had weaseled Maester Darvin into telling them about bastards in Westerosi history, Torrhen had been a little bit too fascinated with Daemon Blackfyre and Aegor Rivers. Talented warriors for sure but none a boy should strive for, especially not one with a trueborn Targaryen as a cousin.

Bittersteel's support for the Black Dragon, his loyalty to him and the ambition with which he had pushed his half brother to strive for more than just a sword, those surely were admirable in a certain light, but in the end they had both wanted something that hadn't been theirs. And the realm had suffered and bled.

“But you're prettier than me!” Torrhen continued in half a wail, Oberyn raised an eyebrow, seemed like it was a different topic after all.  
“I'm not prettier than you.” Jon shot back, sounding about as confused as Oberyn felt over the interesting criteria for Torrhen's newest game. “Rhaena is prettier than any of us, you're not asking her to play the prince.” Oberyn almost snorted and had to bite down on his lip to not give himself away.

Even at only three and a half years of age, Rhaena was more of a lady than her mother could ever even play at, as if Lady Eleana's ghost was guiding her hand. Rhaena was not going to play at swords, she was the kind who liked being the princess in children's games but Oberyn knew it wasn't weak, that this little girl already wasn't weak. One look, one tiny tremble of a lip and even sometimes oblivious Torrhen was kneeling down to demand what was wrong.

“I'm taller than you.” Torrhen changed tactics, another skill he was developing, especially when it came to Jon, always another strategy left in torn sleeves.  
“By like half my hand.” Jon held against it, “Ser Duncan the Tall was a giant, much taller than King Aegon.” He pointed out and Oberyn finally got what was going on, he smiled, trying desperately not to laugh over imagining restless Torrhen in playing a man as honorable and calm as Ser Duncan the Tall.

Seeing Jon play at being King Aegon V was a less obstruse picture.

“I can play Prince Egg, Jon.” Edric spoke up as well then, as always the peaceholder, dark blue eyes switching between both older boys, “You're both too dark haired anyway. Jon can be Ser Duncan and Torrhen can play one of the Blackfyres.” Jon and Edric both turned to look up at Torrhen who thought about the proposal for a moment before he nodded and went striding over to his sister.  
“Should I be concerned that my nephew is way too fascinated with the Blackfyres?” Allyria's voice nearly had Oberyn jump as she ducked under his arm to stand before him.

“He's only interested in them being warriors, he doesn't care about their cause, probably didn't even listen. When I was his age, I played at being Aegor Rivers, too, it's just games, Allyria. Tomorrow he'll be back to being Barristan Selmy or Arthur, or he'll get into another fight with Jon over who gets to be Aemon the Dragonknight or Duncan the Tall.” Oberyn listed the usual suspects of the boys' games.

Rhaena had been convinced to play the damsel in distress and Vhagar was only too happily engaged to protect her as well, even if the puppy didn't understand that he was defending her against the wrong side.

The children were too engaged in their game soon enough to notice the blond figure in the light blue dress who approached from the other side of the garden. Oberyn smiled when his daughter raised a finger to her lips and he nodded, proceeding to watch how Tyene crept closer to Jon who was calling out encouragement to Edric battling Torrhen while keeping Vhagar contained.

The dog got set free quickly though when Tyene crouched down behind Jon and quietly called out his name. Jon whirled around and grinned, flushed red right to the tips of his ears as he took her hand and clumsily kissed the back of it.

“My Lady.” He greeted her and Oberyn elbowed Allyria when she giggled.

\--

As they rode into the Kingswood, Arthur found himself smiling, memories of old for once not hurting but bringing along the good times, and he pulled back the hood of his cloak. He would not hide here, would not hide where he had once spent so much time showing these people that he wasn't playing games, that he was not carrying masks.

Richard rode to his side and the others even gave them a little space, let them ride towards the village alone.

“I cannot wait to see their faces, all these little boys who are now grown man, who only ever wanted to be just like you.” Richard chuckled, he was near giddy on his horse, “You sure you're ready to come alive?” Arthur smiled, ears already hearing the distant sounds of someone calling out 'riders' to the villagers.

“For these people, always.”

They turned the last curve in the Kingsroad and then he could see the market place and the smith's old hub, the Inn on the other side, the stables and the stands, the well he had once helped repair.

And people crowding in from everywhere it seemed.

“Dayne, I see flags of House Dayne!” Someone was shouting in the back and then it was suddenly dead silent on the entire market place and Richard snickered, Arthur could only smile. It started as a whisper, then gasps and he slowed his horse further and further until he stopped all together, and then the shouts started.

“Ser Arthur!”

“Our Ser! Our Ser Arthur!”

“Ser Arthur is alive!”

“Our Ser Arthur has returned!”

By the time the others rode onto the market place, Arthur could barely hear anything anymore over the roar of his name and title, was too busy shaking hands left and right and keeping his horse calm in the sight of jumping children. When he remembered to look up, he found his sister's happy eyes where Ashara had stopped between the Stark brothers.

“Someone find Ser Jaime.” The baker cried and Richard made to stop him as he turned away but Arthur shook his head, if he was here, it would be fine.   
“No need.” A female voice spoke up from his left in the next moment anyway, “There he is.” And Arthur followed her outstretched hand with his eyes, easily finding the white cloaked figure standing frozen in the open door of the Inn.

Sharp green eyes were staring at him, wide with shock and fear, and whatever Arthur had thought he would feel when he came face to face with Jaime Lannister again, it made room for the sheer relief of seeing him alive after everything that happened.

Arthur smiled and Jaime smiled back.

\--

There were so many people who wanted to talk to him as they settled into the Inn for the night before they would ride on to King's Landing tomorrow that Arthur lost sight of Jaime once he was down from his horse.

Ashara dragged him away from the villagers with a smile and a promise of returning her brother later after he had food and rest, but even inside as Richard and Benjen asked for news from the city, Jaime wasn't around anymore.

It seemed questions had to wait.

\--

Sleep didn't find Jaime that night and after tossing and turning around for so long that he was sure the people sleeping in the room next to him would be able to hear it, Jaime rather dressed again. Simple tunic and breeches, not even glancing at the armor. He strapped on swordbelt and sword and then quietly left the room he was paying for.

He took the back entrance of the Inn to not disturb the Inn owners whose room laid directly adjacent to the other entrance and he didn't want to wake them. The night was dark, clouds hanging over the sky and keeping out the light of moon and stars. 

“You shouldn't go out alone.”

Jaime nearly jumped for the Inn's roof when the voice came from the darkness of the stable and he whirled around with one hand on the hilt of his sword, catching violet eyes in the low light of a torch that was stuck in the ground next to where Arthur was sitting on a hay ball.

“No more Smiling Knights in these woods.” He answered quietly and walked over to Arthur, gladly taking seat next to his old friend, his former sworn brother.   
“That truly the only thing you're afraid of?” Arthur wanted to know, he didn't have Dawn with him, not was he wearing armor or a white cloak, but still the situation reminded Jaime of times long gone when outlaws had still crawled along every dark corner of these woods.

“That.” Jaime admitted with half a smile before turning serious again, “And Oberyn Martell.” That earned him a snort from Arthur, “And you.”  
“Me?” Arthur almost recoiled in shock over it and Jaime couldn't look at him, felt that old ugly rock of guilt in the pits of his stomach again, just like he had in those moons between that moment in the throne room and news of Arthur's death reaching the capital, “When did I give you reason to be afraid of me?”

“When I stabbed your King in the back.” Jaime whispered it and hunched over, but just as quickly straightened up again when Arthur's hand landed heavily but with familiarity on Jaime's shoulder.  
“Didn't know you were at the Trident after all.” Arthur said and Jaime turned to look at him, brows furrowed in confusion, lips agape.

“I...” He protested and then got it, mouth falling shut and the frown disappearing from his face, he took a shuddering breath and had to close his eyes when the emotions crawling up his chest and throat threatened to overwhelm him. Arthur kept his hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

“Jaime, I knew how dangerous Aerys was and I don't blame you for what you did, not anymore.” He told Jaime, smiling even when Jaime glanced his way, “Time gives ones opportunities to think, to see some things in a different light and I had a lot of time to think in the last six years. I cannot tell you if I had done the same had I been in your shoes, I wasn't there, I don't know what happened, what he might have done. But I know that no one else was there and you shouldn't listen to anyone who thinks they can judge you for what you did, most of them didn't know how far gone Aerys really was.”

Jaime took another breath, wrapped his hands tight into his cloak and tunic when they started shaking again, Arthur's eyes of course noticed, quick as he always was.

“Burn them all.”

“Hm?”

“That's what he kept saying in his last minutes, right after Rossart had told him that my father had broken into the city. Burn them all, burn them all.” Arthur froze next to him, Jaime could feel it all but he kept his eyes firmly fixed onto his boots, “He had caches of wildfire stashed all under the city, from Aegon's Hill to the Sept of Baelor. It was just Rossart, him and me in the throne room when Rossart told him the sacking had begun. Aerys turned to me and told me what Rossart had done for him and that I would see my father burn now. Rossart turned, and I slashed his throat. Aerys starting screaming, burn them all, burn them all.” And there he looked up again, met Arthur's horrified eyes, “I didn't think of what I should or shouldn't do, I wasn't even in my body anymore, it just happened then. Aerys turned to sit himself back on his throne, he truly was convinced that he would rise from the ashes as a true dragon. And I stood there, I could only see Rhaenys laughing and chasing after Balerion, I saw Elia rocking Aegon and I...I stabbed him in the back and then slashed his throat just to be sure...” The end was only a choked up whisper when the tears he was so hard trying to swallow down came anyway.

Arthur's hand went from his shoulder to grab his chin in a tight grip, forcing him to look up again.

“I am fucking proud of you.”

“But...” Jaime tried to shake his head but Arthur didn't let him, “I should have saved Elia and the children, I should have...”  
“Had you gone to save them, the city would have burned. Elia, Rhaenys, Aegon and you along with it. You couldn't have known what your father would order his monsters to do. You saved thousands, Jaime.” Arthur spoke and Jaime could feel something in his chest start to close up again, something that had been torn apart when his sword had stabbed the Mad King in the back.

“I'm still sorry that I couldn't save her or the little ones, so sorry, she deserved none of what happened.” He added quietly and Arthur's hand went from his chin back to his shoulder.  
“No, she didn't. And Rhaegar didn't either, he made mistakes but he should have had a chance to make up for them, not be cut down by this Usurper.” Arthur told him and they shared a grim smile. “This visit is gonna suck.”

“Can you tell me about your boy?”

Arthur swallowed and Jaime cursed himself for asking so directly after the comment about Robert but then Arthur smiled, besotten and proud and maybe it had been the right thing to ask after all.

Later, after they had both talked until they were yawning more than adding new sentences, Jaime made the choice to head to bed for some hours of sleep first. A hand on his arm stopped him and made him turn around to face Arthur again, a moment later he had his head resting against Arthur's shoulder and a hand on the back of his head.

“I'm sorry. Sorry that we all left you alone.” Arthur whispered and Jamie sighed, “Sorry that we didn't see how bad it really was, that you had to go through this alone.”

\--

“It's too bloody early.”

Ignoring him for the fifth time, Arthur simply rolled his eyes and pushed Richard out of the Inn's front door, smiling one last time at the Inn owners while Richard hissed over the sunlight that was still dimmed by trees.

“Up and at them, Lonmouth!” Benjen laughed from where he was already sitting on his horse, overseeing the guards loading the one cart with their few chests, in good spirits despite the goal of today's last trip.  
“Fuck you, Stark, some people actually like to sleep.” Richard grumbled and stalked off towards the stables to get his horse and help with the last things that needed to be done. Arthur had wanted him to stay in the village but Richard had absolutely refused that option.

“Gods, brother, what did you do to that tunic?”

Arthur went from grinning at Benjen glaring after Richard to choking on his breath when his sister suddenly appeared at his sight and began to pull at the strings of his tunic. Andric had argued his ears off until Arthur had agreed to his plan just to have him shut up finally, so now he was wearing the armor and cloak he despised.

Not because of what it stood for.

The armor and silver cloak of the Sword of the Morning was inked with just as much honor as the title or Dawn was, but it was bright and attention seeking and Arthur was not a fan of either. Andric had argued that it was a sign and Arthur understood, he would stand proud, he was not crawling towards King's Landing to beg for forgiveness, his spine was straight.

Dorne's spine was straight.

Ashara fiddled around with his collars until she was content and he was personally sure that he would never be able to breathe again. She looked at him then, looking way more cheerful than Arthur felt.

“What's the saying of the hour?” She quietly demanded from him and Arthur leaned in to kiss her cheek before answering her.  
“Dawn breaks the Darkness.” He said for her and himself, quoting their House words that were more than words, it was a promise. Morning came at the end of the Night, no matter how dark and terrible the darkness had been, the sun would rise again.

“A few days and then we will ride home, brother.” Ashara told him and then turned, walking over to Ned Stark who helped her up onto her horse.

Dawn breaks the Darkness.

Sweet words that had often helped his ancestors to find hope in dire times again, Arthur only wondered if other Swords of the Morning had ever seen the problem behind them as well.

When you were wielding a near indestructable Dawn in your hands, you could break a lot more darkness than just the night.

And those were not thoughts Arthur was keen on entertaining while he readied himself to ride towards a face off with Robert Baratheon. Richard handed him the reigns of his horse and Arthur swung himself up into the saddle, turning to steer the mare towards where Jaime was already waiting at the edge of the village, white armor, white cloak.

“Seems it won't be me blinding the smallfolk today.” Jaime noted drily and Arthur glared at him, “I've never seen you in this.”  
“For a very good reason.” Arthur muttered and grimaced at the silver shimmer of the cloak that fell over his thighs, or the silver stitchings on the lilac tunics and doublet. “I feel like a peacock.”

Jaime snorted and then even laughed as the others joined them to start the ride down into the city.

\--

Inside the city walls, Arthur felt so sickened by memories and thoughts over what was awaiting him soon enough then that he could only force a smile for the smallfolk who called out his name, with less wonder than the Kingswood villagers but still in surprise.

And then the Red Keep was right there and Benjen rode up to his left where Jaime kept himself on Arthur's right. Seeing it all again, even from the outside, Maegor's Holdfast, the White Sword Tower, the Red Keep, Athur had honestly thought it would hurt more.

It stung, but it wasn't the crippling agony he had feared it to be on first sight, he was too tense to really feel anything.

In the main courtyard, there was no garrison of Baratheon soldiers waiting to arrest them, especially not him, and instead it was almost blessedly empty except for one lone figure in white standing at the bottom of the stairs leading up into the castle. 

Barristan looked older, but still not old and Arthur had no doubt that the man had not lost even an ounce of his fighting capabilities.

They stopped the horses and dismounted and Arthur lingered back only long enough for Jaime and Barristan to quietly exchange some words, then he had walked up to them. He caught blue eyes and the relief in them was enough to let him know that even being Robert Baratheon's Lord Commander would never change who Barristan Selmy was.

Quickly Arthur found himself with two hands on his shoulders, feeling small and a boy again under the intense but still gentle gaze of blue eyes. “I'm so glad you didn't die. And I have full belief that this visit will not end with it either.” Arthur smiled and they briefly embraced before he stepped away, having sensed his sister approaching with Richard at her side.

“Ser Barristan, it is so wonderful to see you again.”

“My Lady, it is an honor to greet you back at court.” Barristan greeted Ashara with a smile that Arthur had to look away from, even if his sister's bright grin wasn't any better, nor was Richard's smirk.

\--

Arthur was glad almost that Ashara chose to not come with them as they approached the throne room and had instead retired for the day already in the rooms given to them. Benjen had accompanied her, not willing at all to face Robert when it wasn't necessary, and their guards had been sent to rest as well, leaving Arthur accompanied by Richard as the only ally really for Ned had gone ahead with Jon Arryn.

Framed left and right by Jaime and Barristan and no one saying a word.

It was unreal to think that the last time he had walked these corridors he had still worn the same white cloak as Jaime and Barristan and the man sitting on the throne had been way more dangerous but never seeing an enemy in Arthur Dayne. How different to now.

“If neither of you wants to say a damn word, I will.” Richard grouched after another corridor had passed by in utter silence, Arthur nearly smiled, trust Richard to be the one feeling urged to speak, “I'm glad you two kept your heads on your neck after the lions fell. I'm sorry for your impending loss, Jaime, but they were horrible people.” Arthur glared at him but all thoughts of poking danger when they needed one flew away when Jaime snorted.

“They get what was coming for them. And my brother will be better for the Rock than my father was in recent years.” Jaime muttered and though he didn't meet their eyes, he still sounded sincere.  
“Are we gonna get what is coming for us, too?” Richard wanted to know then, way too cheerful for the occasion and Arthur was actually grateful for the elbow that Barristan knocked into him, armor hurt more.

“If you can keep your mouth shut, Richard, it'll be just fine.” Barristan set clear and Richard scoffed but thought twice about saying more when he caught Arthur's eyes.

And then they were standing in front of the half closes doors of the throne room, petitions were currently still held and even from outside, Arthur could hear the gossiping voices of a court crowd.

“No one will lose their heads.” Barristan mentioned as a way of comfort but three pairs of eyes looked at him with utter lack of conviction, they had stopped, just outside the doors, “Jon Arryn will keep him contained in front of a crowd, just...Richard, be quiet for a change and Arthur...actually just be who you are and it will be fine.”

Barristan pushed open the doors and went first, Arthur and Richard followed him while Jaime took up the tail end of their little group. Arthur knew the difference between a prisoner being led to face justice and guests being led to face a greeting, and though he remained tense he was glad to see the Kingsguard formation showing the latter.

At first people didn't pay any attention to him, there was a Bracken-Blackwood dispute brought before the Crown again, certainly enough entertainment to keep everyone focused on ahead. It wasn't until Arthur had walked halfway down the length to the Iron Throne that the first people caught sight of him and immediately whispers stopped for a long moment before they violently flashed up even louder.

Arthur ignored it all in order to look ahead towards the throne, stormy blue eyes had been watching him from the moment he set foot into the throne room. Robert Baratheon sat on the throne, tense and uncomfortable, and he had aged badly, as far as first impressions went something in Arthur sang in joy because the crown wore heavy on the Usurper king and it felt so good.

He stared back unashamed, wondering what Robert saw. Rhaegar's friend? A Kingsguard with broken vows? Lyanna's kidnapper? Lyanna's rapist? Lyanna's doom? Or maybe the man who had protected her from Rhaegar? The man she had loved? The father of her son?

And this lie, it hurt.

Lords Bracken and Blackwood were still going on even if no one but an annoyed Jon Arryn was left listening to them, maybe Bittersteel and Bloodraven should have killed each other on the battlefield and their families would have seen it as an end to this bloody feud. 

Below the throne daise, the five new Kingsguard stood lined up proper and alert, all newly installed and sworn in still, young but according to Jaime's words from this morning at least half decent men. Arthur felt their eyes focus on him as he stopped at the front of the assembled crowd and he wanted to glare at them. What did they expect? That he would draw Dawn and cut his line across the room to kill their king?

If that had been his wish, Arthur could have had long since slipped unseen into the Red Keep or one of the many brothels the King frequented.

There was no sign of any other Small Council Member, especially no sign of Aurane, his hair would have stuck out brightly in this room full of dark haired Andals. The only face Arthur still recognized was Varys lurking in the shadows of a pillar now where the dragon skulls were gone and could no longer offer a whole world of shadows to hide in.

Lord Bracken was huffing himself through another row of accuses sent towards his hated neighbour when he glanced around, caught sight of Arthur and immediately shut up. They had a lively history for the man had once upon a time asked Arthur to take his oldest son as a squire and Arthur had actually considered it until the man had reached too far in his boasting and half in his cups as he had been thrown out that his heir was a warrior just like Bittersteel had been.

Arthur had walked away from the conversation and had for once let Jon Connington explain why the man better not approach the subject again.

“I will consider the issue, my Lords.” Jon Arryn took up the word and then excused both Lords rather harshly but no one could blame him, they were truly acting like the children they hadn't been in a long time. Lords Bracken and Blackwood sneered at each other and then walked off into different corners of the throne room, back to their people. 

Jon Arryn took a deep breath and turned his eyes on Arthur, and he knew from the first second that at least the Hand of the King meant him no harm.

“Ser Arthur Dayne...” Lord Arryn began and the entire crowd turned so dead silent that Richard actually glanced around at Arthur's side, “Ser Richard Lonmouth. Two names I had no expected to greet back in the Red Keep. As it stands, the day has been long and you have had...” He stopped though when Robert suddenly stood up.

He was not the man anymore who had hammered himself almost singlehandedly to a win in the melee at Harrenhall, not the Demon of the Trident who had killed friends. Too much wine, too many women, too many politics, it didn't leave much time for the sparring yard, but Arthur also had no doubt that the man would still be a good warrior.

“Ser Arthur.”

“Your Grace.”

“I will deal with you tomorrow, you can be assured of that.” Robert growled almost, fully ignoring Richard and it might be better like this, Arthur didn't look away from ice cold blue eyes and like that didn't miss how Robert sent a quick look over to Ned standing off to the side before he turned his glare back on Arthur, “Ser Barristan will see to it that you remain watched.”

Well, it could have gone worse.

\--

Alone in the room given to him, Arthur set Dawn down on the chest that had been brought up while he had met with the King. He pulled off doublet, cloak and sword belt before sitting down on the edge of the bed and sinking his face into his hands.

His hands were shaking but he was keeping it together, force of will alone, he couldn't allow himself to lose nearly seven years of finally having put this dark panic mostly behind himself. Not in this place. 

'I'm surrounded by enemies, gonna end up sleeping with Dawn beside me.' He begrudgingly thought to himself, glad to know that he had his sister right beside his room, guarded by their own men and Benjen who was going to give up a night of sleep. And with Barristan assigned to keep an eye on them, Arthur knew he would never have to worry about Ashara.

A knock on the door had him flinch, heart squeezing painfully, lungs refusing to take in the next breath for a moment as he looked up again. His lack of reaction was enough to prompt whoever was on the other side of the door to open it and maybe Arthur should have seen it coming instead of being utterly surprised in the best ways possible when watery green eyes locked with his.

A door got kicked shut.

“Aurane.” Arthur whispered and was on his feet in the next moment, Aurane met him halfway and they embraced, clutching at each other probably a little more than Arthur's old annoyance would have let him consider. “We've been worried sick when you stopped giving word. Uncle confronted Stannis to demand your release.” He admitted with concern, real true concern, coloring his voice as they drew apart again.

Aurane looked older for certain than the last time Arthur had seen him a mere few days after they had returned from Harrenhall. He had grown leaner still but his smirk and the all knowing mischief eyes were still very much how he remembered him.  
“No need to worry. I know what I am doing, I merely kept quiet and my head low these last weeks.” Aurane explained and he didn't look worried about a thing in the world as they pulled apart again. “And the growing Ironborn Rebellion is a boon, I'm too useful to get rid of.”

“I'm so glad you're alright.” Arthur said the words and didn't need Aurane's raised eyebrow to get how unusual it was, “Please don't make me apologize for ten years of sometimes being annoyed by you.” And Aurane laughed, patted his shoulder and moved past him to sit down on the edge of the bed, like always, if there was a bed in the room, you didn't find Aurane sitting on a chair.

“I'm glad to see you, too, but I would have chosen a different place.” Aurane confessed and grimaced at the yellow tapestries. Arthur shared his distaste and sank down on the bed next to him, boots kicked off for a change, order be damned, he was too exhausted to care. It wasn't just something crawling under his skin with the sense of being watched, being judged, being wished dead, it was crawling through his veins, through every inch of him.

“Ser Barristan said it could have been worse.” Aurane mentioned casually, “Had expected worse after he blew up like the Doom of Valyria come again when Jon Arryn read the letter that Andric wrote. Very eloquent and down to the point while still harboring enough anger to set the whole chamber on fire. I knew just why cousin Andric had always been so much fun.” Arthur winced but Aurane chuckled, “Don't worry too much. I think the worst outbreak already happened right there and he didn't even come at me. Gods, Varys' face, you should have seen it.”

And they both dropped back on their backs in the next moment as if having planned it.

“I looked for you in the throne room.”

“Trouble in the harbor, had to make sure a Redwyne Captain didn't drew his sword on a Braavosi trader, and they were both shipping things they weren't allowed to. I wanted to be there, alone to see the veins on Robert's neck pulse.” Aurane explained and turned his head to the side so he could look at Arthur, “You okay?” Arthur blew out a breath.

“Ask me again after tomorrow.”

When it knocked, Arthur only reluctantly called whomever to come in, but then smiled when Richard appeared with a bottle of wine in each hand, kicking the door shut the moment he was in. 

“Arbor Gold.” Richard declared as he set them down on the small table by the window before dragging it over to the bed where Arthur and Aurane still laid, even if Aurane had pushed himself up onto his elbows. Both of them were grimacing at the hated kind of wine, but at least Richard hadn't turned up with his own moonshine horrors. Richard ignored them happily and pulled over a chair, dropping down into it with a sigh.

“Did you steal them?” Aurane wanted to know with a huff, grabbing a bottle and pulling out the cork with a small dagger he drew out from under his tunic.  
“Of course I didn't steal them.” Richard snapped at him and reached for the other bottle, Arthur shifted and pulled his feet onto the bed before dropping back against the pillows and wondering what his life was becoming, “I found a maid of old. She remembered how I pleased her back in the day and was only too happy to gift me some wine from the cellar. Not like the King will notice two bottles missing.”

Aurane gave such a theatrical sigh when he swallowed the Reach wine that Arthur had to smile over his antics, especially because it unnerved Richard. The last time he had sat in a room in the Red Keep and shared bottles of wine with friends completely relaxed, they had still been double the numbers. Oswell, Richard and Aurane had kept up conversation easily enough, Myles had still been wide eyed enough to be in complete amazement. Arthur had been tired all the time back then, worn thin by Aerys' paranoia and the effort it took to get the Kingswood smallfolk to trust him, Rhaegar the traitor had carded fingers through his hair until Arthur had nodded off.

And found himself awake in the morning with a fallen star drawn on each cheek and a prayer for the Maiden written on one arm in ink. One of Rhaella's handmaiden had needed half an hour to scrub it from his skin while Rhaella herself had sighed into her hands and Viserys had demanded to be allowed to draw on people, too.

No one would hopefully draw on him tonight, he thought later now as the wine settled warm in his stomach and Aurane's latest story about court scandals grew faint to his ears.

\--

Aurane blinked open his eyes when he heard the gasp right next to his head and a hand fisted into his tunic, mistaking it for a blanket. He hadn't even managed to fall asleep again before Arthur had once more shook himself awake from whatever terror was chasing after him. A quick glance around Arthur's now sitting form on the bed showed Aurane that Richard was snoring away in his chosen chair, still hugging the empty bottle of Arbor Gold.

Refusing to feint sleep again as he had the first two times Arthur had bolted awake right next to him, Aurane carefully raised a hand and gently squeezed Arthur's arm. Arthur flinched but then slowly turned to look at him.

“You okay?”

“Fine.” Arthur whispered and dropped back down again, lying on his back and staring up at the canopy of the bed, fucking stags on horrendous yellow. He wasn't fine in the slightest, despite seven years of not having seen each other, Aurane could still pick out the small tells.

“I have a plan if things go south.” He spoke into the silence then and Arthur rolled onto his side to face him, eyes so alert. Once upon a time he would have thought to give his life to say that he had valiant Arthur Dayne in a bed, that he had managed to seduce that white cloak off of him and their Silver Prince away from him. But then death had taken friends left and right, a war had torn his family from grace and thoughts about spurning on Rhaegar's jealousy had felt sickening in Aurane's throat when his Prince laid dead and burned. Now, actually lying in a bed with Arthur, if fully clothed and with one under the blanket and one above it, he was just glad to have a friend back whom he had thought forever lost. “My crew is neither allowed to get terribly drunk, nor to stray too far from my ship. The second Robert decides he wants you arrested, you and I, we'll disappear.”

“Robert knows about Jon.” Arthur pointed out as if Aurane hadn't sat there in that small council meeting while that letter had been read and stared everyone down who had just dared to so much as glance at him.  
“I wrote Father when Jon Arryn sent out the summons to Starfall, he has long since arrived there. When they catch wind of something having gone wrong here, Father will take Jon and find us.” Aurane promised but for now refrained from explaining that he had needed Barristan to get that letter out, “He's not going to get you. And he sure as all Seven Hells is not gonna get the boy.”

Not like he got Myles. Not like he got Rhaegar.

Not like we thought him to have taken Richard. Not like his so called dogs cut down Oswell for him.

'Not like I thought to have lost you.'

Arthur offered his palm flat on the bed and Aurane curled his fingers through his, squeezed twice before letting go again.

“Thank you.”

\--

Benjen was hesitant to see her go without a guard of their own retinue but Ashara simply waved his concern away, there was nothing to fear for her in the capital, least of Ser Barristan. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard stood at the end of the corridor they had been housed in, waiting for her, he was tasked with keeping an eye on them but had already told her how he wouldn't keep any of them locked in their rooms.

Still, Ashara doubted her brother would leave his room until the King summoned him for the awaited talk, there weren't any memories here her brother would long to dwell upon while eyes watched his every move.  
“Get some sleep, Ben.” She told her goodbrother who already looked like he might fall over any second, the whole night he had stood guard at her door and she was so thankful for it but he needed his rest. “I will be fine with Ser Barristan and my sister will be cross with me if I return her to you looking five years older.”

Benjen scowled at her for a moment but then sighed and kissed her cheek before turning to walk to the room given to him. Just as Ashara slipped the shawl over her shoulder and turned to join Ser Barristan for the walk and talk she had asked him for, her brother's door opened and Aurane slipped out.

Still wearing the clothes he had been wearing yesterday when he had briefly greeted her.

Ashara raised her eyebrows but Aurane snorted.

“I wish.” He replied to where her thoughts had taken her, his eyes were a little bloodshot, “We were talking when Richard came by.” Her distant cousin by blood but cousin of her heart explained to her, “He brought wine, he's still snoring in his chair. And Arthur was out before either of us.” Richard's comfort measures had always involved a bit too much alcohol for Ashara's taste, at least he hadn't had his stupid moonshine around.

“How is he?” She asked when they fell in step with each other, walking over to Barristan who only greeted Aurane with a short nod and then joined them.  
“Tense like a bowstring. He woke up in the night more often than I could count, but of course he didn't want to talk about it.” Aurane gave her words that didn't really ease her worries but he least he was still brutally honest about it.

Aurane had to leave then, wanted to change clothes and at least grab something to eat to quieten his raging headache before he got to the council meeting. The Greyjoys had done the unthinkable and crowned Lord Balon a King of his own name, it was going to be war very soon, Ashara feared. Barristan and her made their way in the other direction towards the gardens.

They didn't talk until they were outside in the bright beautiful flowers and trees, but there Ashara threw her careful manners and cool facade away and hooked her arm around Barristan's.

“Your letter was wonderful.” She began with a chuckle then, felt herself smiling brightly when Barristan actually flushed a little in his cheeks, “A true beautiful surprise I had not expected. You have never looked like the type to write such heartfelt letters, Barristan, at least not to me.” Oh how she had read it again and again, so often that Torrhen had started to ask if he could hear the story, too, for it seemed really fascinating.

She had not given into his pleas and ignored his sulking, instead she had told him the story of how a wonderful brave knight had slain the last pretender dragon. When her son had played at being Barristan the Bold the next day during sword training and tried to convince a clearly unimpressed and unwilling Jon to play the part of Maelys the Monstrous, she had felt the looks of both her brothers and Oberyn on her.

Andric and Oberyn had teased her that evening immediately while Arthur at least had pretended to be deaf and ignorant.

“It's not every day a dear friend returns from the dead.” Barristan replied to her in his soft voice and Ashara laughed, “I thought myself to have lost every small hope that I ever had when Jaime told me of your reported death. And then when we had it official that you had returned to the world of the living, I knew that I had to grab the first chance I would get to no longer keep quiet about my heart's wishes.”

He was so sweet.

And though she had always known it, it had still melted her heart to hear it confirmed, to read the words he had never spoken to her in the past but shown in his eyes and his actions.

“I want you to know that you could have always come to me and been honest about it seven years ago.” Ashara said and stopped to look at some flowers before grabbing one and holding it out to Barristan. He understood quickly enough and tucked it into her hair.  
“What good would it have brought us, Shara?” He asked her then, standing before her and taking her hand, using a nickname that not a lot of people had used with her.

“I never longed for a Lordly husband, a keep and all proper life. Andric knew he didn't have to look at me for any political games, even my father had already known it. All I ever wanted was to live and find love.” She told him, smiling and reaching up a hand to place upon his cheek, she didn't care about anyone seeing, she had lost so much. The people already had their minds made up about her, there wasn't anything she could do to change it.

“I swore...” Barristan began and she moved a finger onto his lips to stop him, smiled at him and the look in his eyes, how his hand twitched on her other hand.  
“So did Lewyn.” She reminded him gently of his sworn brother's paramour, the woman had somehow managed to make it to Sunspear despite the war, “So did my brother.” She went even further, didn't even mean the fabricated story with Lyanna, “You and I, we both know Oswell's little taunts were invented to unroot every rumor there could have ever been about Rhaegar and Arthur.”

“I have two beautiful children, Barristan.” She went on and drew her finger from his lips again, “I loved Brandon Stark, even when I knew that it could never be. Rhaena's father...it's complicated but I knew that he could never give me my happy ending either but that he could give me the second child I longed for. I would never ask you to shed the white cloak and leave it all behind, I saw in my brother how torn he was for the longest time.”  
“I could never ask you to return to the capital, Shara.” Barristan smiled at her, squeezing her hand and leaning into her hand, “You're never gonna be happy here, and your two little ones wouldn't either, especially not that son of yours from everything I've heard.”

“It doesn't mean we cannot write or see each other. Andric might be allergic to tourneys but I greatly enjoy them and once the Ironborn are dealt with I am sure we'll return to tourney season.” She teased him and Barristan shook his head, fondness and amusement coloring his eyes even lighter. “I do not want to push you into anything.”  
“Believe me, Ashara, not even you could push me into anything.” Barristan assured her, his hand moving up to softly push a strand of hair from her face, tugging it behind her ear. “What about your children? What are they gonna say? Do I need to fear a vengeful youth coming for me, demanding I make an honest woman out of his mother?”

Ashara laughed, tried to imagine her little wild son confronting a seasoned warrior like Barristan Selmy. He sure would, Torrhen was reckless enough for it, especially if without Jon around to stop him and tell him to stop being stupid. Her sweet little Rhaena would not care about who it was that had her mother smile and laugh.

“My little boy might be a warrior in the making but he'll only fight to see his mother happy, and he'll have to realize, too, that I'm happy when I'm with you. And he's been playing at nothing else but being you in their games since I told him about you.” She chose to leave out how her son had jumped from being Bittersteel to being Barristan the Bold in a speed that kept everyone dizzy, at least he was playing at being one of the good guys for once, “Jon had to argue against being Maelys the Monstrous until Arthur told them about the Kingswood Brotherhood, and then Richard got to play the Smiling Knight or Simon Toyne.” She drew the picture for him and he laughed, head thrown back and eyes closed at all.

“I've truly grown old if little children are playing games over history that still feels like yesterday for me.” Barristan chuckled and tugged her arm around his again so he could lead them on, deeper into the gardens, they still looked very much like Rhaella and the Queens before her had created them. Cersei Lannister had had no love for gardening, Ashara supposed. “Tell me more about them, your two and your siblings' ones, too.”

She told him what came to mind, about the easy peaceful years in Volantis, seeing the boys and later Rhaena grow, about the difficult flight back home and there she had to squeeze his arm to chase the frown away from his face. She told him about seeing the little ones adept to life in Dorne, about meeting cousins and making new friends, about little Edric following Torrhen's and Jon's every step.

“Torrhen wants to be a knight, and it feels like half of the knights in Dorne have already offered up having him squire for them.” Ashara recalled with a proud smile, he knew that when her brother said her son had real talent, then he really had it.  
“But you're waiting for Arthur to do the same.” Barristan immediately guessed and she nodded, knew also that her brother was waiting for Torrhen to ask him, “And Arthur's boy?”

A tiny voice in her head was screaming when he phrased it like that. 'Tell him' it seemed to call out to her, 'Tell him and see that spark in his eyes when he hears that some part of Rhaegar still lives on.' And the voice of her brother saying 'No, don't put that burden on his shoulders.'

“He could be great at whatever he chooses to become. He's smart, he's quick, he's kind. He would make a good knight, one whose morals and honor will rival that of my brother and you. Together with Torrhen, he could conquer any foe. If the tensions between the Houses weren't so thick, I would say Jon could make a good Hand of the King, or sit among a small council.” She nearly had to laugh, even if she spoke the truth, Jon certainly had the right ambition and drive for it, “As it stands, he'll make a good confidant for Edric or even Princess Arianne once they hold the responsibility of their Houses in their hands.” Once more, not a lie.

“After everything you say, I'd offer to squire them myself but I know the boys would never have an easy time here. And after what those squires did to your brother...” He closed his eyes briefly and Ashara tightened her hold on his arm. Her brother had been an outsider when he had come to court, the only Dornishman next to Prince Lewyn and no one certainly had ever dared to insult or even assault the Kingsguard.

But a boy of only ten name days? Unarmed. Unguarded because Rhaegar had despised being followed by shadows as a kid. Four or even five years younger than the squires who had waited on them in the stables, who had waited in the shadows until Rhaegar had just made one step too many away from his still new best friend before they had struck.

Arthur could have died from the knives they had stuck in his stomach, arms and legs and only Rhaegar's quick reaction and Lewyn's and Jonothor's even quicker actions had saved her brother's life.

And all because House Dayne had been worth nothing in the eyes of those boys from the Stormlands and the Riverlands. Just Dornish, just no names, dirt, useless. People had always liked to forget that three Targaryen Kings in the last one hundred years had had Dornish mothers, that two of those Kings had had a Dayne mother.

Just like people liked to forget now that Robert Baratheon was the grandson of a Targaryen Princess, that when he had killed Rhaegar he had not only killed the supposedly Last Dragon but also his own second cousin.

“No,” she agreed with Barristan, “I wouldn't want my son or my nephew or any child of Dorne really squiring in the capital until they finally honor us the respect we deserve. Arthur can still tell you the names of all those boys. Andric keeps a list with the names and mercy be with them if they ever choose to step out of their holes again.”  
“Don't need to tell me that. Gerold had to lock Lewyn into his room to stop him from doing something stupid and I had to talk Rhaegar out of becoming the kind of dragon that no one ever saw in him.” Barristan recalled for her with a grim smile.

“Still, I am grateful for the gesture, it means a lot.” She smiled at him and stopped him once more, right under the canopy of a blooming cherry tree.

“I wonder if I may ask...Who is your little girl's father?” Barristan wondered out loud, already smiling as well, “I've been told you do not tell but I feel compelled to try my luck anyway.” They had reached a kind of balcony that overlooked the Blackwater Bay from the gardens. Ashara looked down into the harbor, her eyes catching the ship that Uncle Lucerys had told her about so easily, nearly all white with seagreen sails carrying a grand white seahorse, it stuck out like a peacock in full mating pose compared to the simple ships of merchants or the dark warships of the Royal Fleet. She nearly snorted on how it suited Aurane.

Pride of the Sea. 

More like Pride of Aurane Water's Ego.

“If you promise me to not tell anyone, to not even breathe a word about it to my brothers, I can tell you.” Ashara offered when she turned to look back at Barristan, his blue eyes flickered over to her in surprise.  
“Of course I won't tell anyone.” Barristan promised her and then blinked when she came closer, leaned up and in so she could whisper in his ear.

Just a name.

He stared at her for a good moment when she dropped back to the heels of her shoes and then he was laughing, free and happy, blue eyes twinkling in the sunshine of high noon, gently pulling her back into an embrace.

And the kiss that followed, it just felt natural and right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my writing mind is a fruitcake at the moment. Whenever I actually have time to write I sit down to work on a new chapter for this or my other ongoing fic outside of this series, I immediately get ideas for other projects but writing on the actual chapters is not happening. So please don't ask when the next update will be, even when nothing happens for weeks, it doesn't mean that I don't write, it might just not be inspiration for current works.
> 
> But I will update at some point.
> 
> Next up in Part III.2, Arthur and Robert have the second big confrontation where it gets a little loud on both sides, Jon has a frightening accident, Arthur makes an emotional potential mistake and Robert gives a decision


	6. Part III.2 - The Second Confrontation and a Decision Made

The situation couldn't be more tense, not even if anyone had drawn a weapon.

The small council chamber had been chosen for the big confrontation and had thus been filled with people from both sides of the play, as well as Ned Stark who had chosen to be somewhat neutral in the whole argument.

Four guards had been placed in the four corners of the room, Barristan and Jaime in full gleaming white armor on Robert's side, Benjen and Richard in the colors of their Houses, swords strapped to their hips. Arthur had the full belief that no actual physical fighting would happen today, Barristan and Jaime would never attack Benjen or Richard or they the Kingsguards.

But if it helped Robert to feel better, so be it.

Arthur himself had come unarmed, despite how much it filled him with unease but he wanted it to be seen as a sign that he had nothing to hide. And if for whatever reason Robert lost his sanity and came for his throat, Arthur knew where Aurane kept the Valyrian Steel dagger on himself at all times.

Robert was sitting at the head of the long table, face of a storm of displeasure and anger the moment he had sat down, Jon Arryn directly at his right, papers in front of him. Arthur had no doubt that Andric's letter was among them, sent the day after the official summons had come, mere hours after Arthur and the others had set out to right for the capital. And as Aurane had told him last night, letters from other Lords had joined the stack, no doubt, even the Citadel had been asked for verification, everything had happened just like Andric and Oberyn had planned it.

Everything was playing into their cards.

Arthur still felt sick.

He had sought out the silence of the godswood in the morning, the Seven had failed him too often until he had given up on them, had given up on the gods alltogether. But somewhere between the nightmares and Aurane's soothing babbling, Arthur had remembered something Lyanna had said about her gods, the old gods, that forgiveness could even come to those who had forsaken the gods.

'They're not like those Southern Ones, no punishment for those who lose faith, no rules to how you have to believe.'

So he had knelt in front of the heart tree – Lyanna had been so appaled at the fact that Rhaegar had dared to call anything else but a weirdwood a heart tree – and had asked for strength, strength to keep up the facade, strength to keep the boy safe that he loved like a son. And he had asked Rhaegar for forgiveness over what he had to do soon.

Now he sat on the other end of the table, Aurane on his right, calm on the outside the both of them but Arthur was everything but calm on the inside and he knew Aurane enough to see the fire blazing in his blood, ready to be ignited. In the middle of the table, on the left sight for Arthur, Ned Stark wore a stoic face, shooting looks to Robert and Arthur from time to time.

“I believe we all know why are here and I can spare us the run down of any summaries.” Jon Arryn began when the silence was really thick enough that only Valyrian Steel might be able to cut it. “We have received your brother's letter, Ser Arthur and I have make inquires to the nature of its truth.”  
“You think I'm lying?” Arthur asked the old man whom he bore no immediate ill will, but at the same time found himself forced to see him as Lyanna had described him.

The man who had in her opinion been one of those whispering into her father's ears to spurn on his Southern ambitions. The man who had pushed for the bethrothal between Lyanna and Robert Baratheon more than he should have for being just a foster father for a man who was already off age.

“I have no intention to imply such, Ser Arthur, but in my position I need to be throurough. I believe a man with your experience in observing these matters will surely understand.” Jon Arryn with the calm of a father explaining something to a child and everyone who knew Arthur even only halfway was aware that he couldn't stand that tone. Aurane's foot pressed down on his toes in a warning, and the fact that it was him who had to be reminded to hold his tongue was so staggering that Arthur managed quite well to keep it together. “Tell me, Ser Arthur, you knew all five of the Mad King's Hands, did you not?”

So they were going the questioning route then.

If they were thinking it would intimidate Arthur in any way, they were underestimating him so much that it nearly hurt.

Arthur had spent more than a decade living at court, he had grown into a man at the court of a paranoid king who had turned mad. Intimidation tactics under Aerys had meant sharp blades and wildfire, questions would only bore Arthur now.

“I did. Though I would add that I was only present to see two of them act in their position, Lord Tywin Lannister and Lord Owen Merryweather. I knew Lord Chelsted of course but as Master of coin, he became Hand when I was no longer in King's Landing.” Arthur answered dutifully and caught out of the corner of his eyes how Barristan was frowning at the back of Jon Arryn's head while he himself didn't look away from blue eyes.

“Rossart, I believe we do not need to mention, everyone knows what the man was known for.” Jon Arryn drawled on and in his corner Jaime twitched. “Jon Connington, now there is a name you do know better, isn't that right?” Jon Arryn wanted to know and his fucking smile made Arthur hate him even more. 

'Gods, does he think we named the boy after our grumpy griffin?'

“Jon was a friend.”

“Was?” Jon Arryn inquired and Arthur saw how even Robert and Ned showed some genuine curiosity over that piece of news, “Are you implying a falling out prior to his being sent into exile?”  
“Jon Connington is dead.” Arthur explained in short words and Jon Arryn's right eyebrow got raised high, “He died not long after he was exiled to Essos, drunk himself to death in Volantis, I can only suspect his reasons.”

“Alright. Let us come to the topic at hand then.”

Finally.

“Your brother already wrote his letter of course to paint us a picture and in the weeks of your travels to the capital, we have asked for verification from several Lords and approached the Citadel for confirmation of this marriage.” Jon Arryn spoke and Arthur could see how Robert's eyebrow twitched, one of his hands curling into a fist on the edge of the table. “Captain Aurane could not give me any information...”

“I wasn't in Harrenhall, my Lord.” Aurane helped out, smile saccharine and dangerous when Jon Arryn looked his way, “My father needed me for affairs of the Royal Fleet in King's Landing.”  
“...but he was so kind as to verify the letters that were written, confirming that he helped have them sent.” Jon Arryn went on as if Aurane hadn't interrupted him at all.

Arthur could feel his heart tick harder for a second, under the table he pushed his foot against Aurane's, thanking him. Aurane had been thrown completely into cold water during the reading of the letter in a small council sitting and not only had he reacted well, he had effortlessly carved himself a place in the plan as well.

“Furthermore, I received answers from Princes Doran and Oberyn Martell.” Jon Arryn looked almost mighty proud of his prodding, not even guessing apparently that even if the Princes of Dorne had not had the smallest idea of what Andric might have written in his letter to the Crown, they would have confirmed everything if it meant protecting a child of Dorne against the Crown. “Lord Whent confirmed the events as well, and the Citadel has provided us with official proof of a wedding having been officiated. Which leaves me with...”

And there Robert's patience ended with a bang as he slapped a hand onto the table and brought Jon Arryn out of his concentration.

“She was not yours for the taking!” It exploded from the King's lips, together with another hand being slammed upon the table, Arthur didn't even flinch on the inside.  
“She wasn't yours either!” Benjen snapped from behind him and Arthur held up a hand when Ned made to snap at his brother in turn, probably to remind him to stay out of this, he had had enough of people always wanting to quieten Benjen. “She didn't want you, she never did. I don't know what dream of a woman you created in your head to make you fall for her, but it certainly hasn't been my sister.”

“You dare...”

“Of course I do.” Benjen cut over Robert's bellowing and Robert looked stunned enough that Arthur needed to actually bite back a smile, seemed like Robert might finally realize Benjen Stark was not a little boy anymore. “I was the only one who knew Lyanna, the only one who loved her for whom she was and not for something they had made up in their minds!” Ned flinched but it was the truth. “Lyanna hated the thought of having to marry you. Lyanna wanted to be free, she wanted to learn how to fight, she wanted to protect people. She didn't want to become your quiet little obedient wife!!”

“Ben...” Arthur stopped him before his anger could loosen Benjen's tongue too much and though he didn't look he knew his goodbrother was taking a deep breath to regain his composure.

“Did you know?” Robert turned to Ned once Benjen was quiet again, Ned looked away from his brother to face his best friend and shook his head.  
“Not until she was already dead.” Ned admitted in a voice that showed his regret over it, “I had to find out that I never really knew my sister, not like I should have.” Robert gritted his teeth over it and then turned his eyes back on Arthur.

“I don't care how long we are going to sit here, you're gonna start at the beginning and this ludicrous claim that Lyanna was Harrenhall's mystery knight.” 

“It's true.”

Richard, Benjen and Arthur had all spoken more or less at the same time but it was Jon Arryn who sighed and pulled out a letter from his many papers.

“Robert, why would Lord Reed lie?” Arryn asked and held up the rather lengthy looking letter, thank the stars for Howland Reed, “And even Ser Barristan recalled that the mystery knight was rather thin and small of height, and that it was less skill with a lance and more riding talent that kept this knight in the saddle against taller and stronger opponents.”

'That riding talent and a whole good of luck kept you from breaking said neck. Did you even think about what could have happened? Men have lost full use of their arms before after too hard hits against their shoulders. And what was the plan here now? Who would look after your injuries?'

Those had been the first words Arthur had heard Rhaegar say to Lyanna after he had stumbled upon them on the forest clearing outside of Harrenhall.

This was going to be a long day.

\--

_'I'll write you. I'll come see you.'_

_'Do not make promises you can't hold.'_

_'I will hold onto them. For you.'_

And now here she was.

Standing on the spot where Brandon Stark had died. 

Strangled to death while trying to get to his burning father.

“It was better that you didn't know about our boy.” Ashara whispered as she crouched down over the spot that Jaime Lannister had reluctantly pointed out to her after her insisting asking.Ashara Dayne was no frail little flower, she had never been one, and even when she felt sick now, she could stand the truth.

She pressed her right hand onto the ground, spread her fingers wide on the cold ground, not far from the black charred spot where the man had died a most gruesome death who in a different world might have been her goodfather. “I'm sorry, Brandon. I do not know if knowing the truth would have made a difference, she was your little sister and you wanted to protect her. I know that Andric would have done the same for me.” She smiled, brushed a kiss upon her left hand and then splayed it over the ground as well for a moment before she stood up again.

Instead of already leaving and finding a secluded spot in the gardens to wait out the meeting between king and her brother, Ashara did not yet leave the throne room. She walked up to the daise and looked upon the Iron Throne, her eyes purposefully not glancing down at the front.

Not to where the bodies of Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon had been laid.

“A dangerous place.” A voice spoke up as the figure emerged from the darkness and Ashara gritted her teeth. She knew he had tried to seek her out, all of them really, but Aurane didn't leave Arthur alone, Richard and Benjen stuck to each other and she had kept herself to Barristan's side so far outside her room, and he was coward enough not to single them out in pairs.  
“Not for men who are good. Only the lazy and unworthy sit dangerous,Varys.” She answered after a breath, sharp fake smile on her face when the fat man came to stand on her left side, two steps between them.

“Not a many men like that to be found anymore.” Varys drawled in his disgustingly sweet voice and Ashara let her smile turn into a smirk, he had truly once more thought to have found the weak one in her. 

Oh, how wrong he was.

Ashara had been playing his game since the cradle.

Hearing and seeing things that no one else did.

In her childhood Princess Loreza and Prince Consort Elion had seen how much fun she had with it, had supported and fostered those skills in her, had let her sit with Oberyn to learn foreign languages. Later, as Elia's lady in waiting, Ashara had not been like the other giggling blushing girls who had had fallen over when a man had so much as glanced at them, Ashara had kept her ears open and her eyes seeing more than people would want her to see.

Rhaegar had called her his Mistress of Whispers on Dragonstone.

“I knew someone who sat the throne like a comfortable armchair, entirely at ease. For near six moons.” She smiled as she remembered it, how Rhaegar had sat his father's throne while Aerys had been captured in Duskendale, keeping the kingdoms together and the Targaryen rule strong while Tywin Lannister and the Kingsguard worked on freeing Aerys. “Rhaegar never cut himself.”

“Our Silver Prince would have made a good king.” Varys agreed and Ashara smiled, turning her back on the Iron Throne and looking around the Great Hall, the small council chamber was closed and no word came from it. “But the time of dragons is gone.”

“People have said that before, Varys, and then Aegon Targaryen conquered Westeros. People said it again when the dragons fought each other, and still they remained on the throne. Once more people said it when the black dragons rose up, and then Barristan the Bold brought their line to an end.” She made some steps forward and then stopped to look back over her shoulder to where Varys was still watching the Iron Throne. “If a dragon cannot kill a dragon, then a stag especially cannot do it.”

“I see no dragon on the throne.” Varys said quietly but Ashara could hear the note of played confusion in his voice. She had no intention to give him even the smallest hint about Jon, Aurane had worked hard on convincing the Master of Whispers that Dorne was secretly plotting for the Targaryen siblings across the Narrow Sea, she would enjoy playing into his dreams now.

“Not yet. My king is a dragon, Varys, not a stag.”

Only, his name was Jaehaerys, not Viserys.

And to Varys' meaningful silence, Ashara left the Great Hall.

\--

They went through every line of Andric's letter, every detail of the story that had been fabricated into the truth for them, and even talked about things that other Lords had already verified. Tyene had done a splendid job, the papers sent by the Citadel were perfect forgeries.

Robert complained about everything and proved with every word that left his spitting lips that he hadn't known Lyanna at all, the picture in his mind it wasn't even a glorified sweet version of her, it wasn't Lyanna in the slightest. 

Arthur bit his lips though whenever the urge came up to correct Lyanna's image, Benjen and Ned had more a right to it than him and Robert took it from them with surprising measures of grim acceptance.

And then there were moments where Jon Arryn was speaking and Arthur found himself in long tense starring matches with Robert than he won every single time and the voice inside his head that sounded shockingly like Rhaegar found so much grand satisfaction in it that it was easier to face the pain when it came to destroying Rhaegar's honor.

“Why did you let him do it?” Robert demanded after Jon Arryn had read Andric's written line about Rhaegar's faked ultimatum, “Why let him get away with something so foul? You claim you loved her and you still let this monster devour her?” Aurane stepped so hard onto his foot that the combination of pain and anger in Arthur's head cleared up so he could think again, Robert went on without giving him any room to speak, “You marry her and then let another have at her?”

'Even if the faked story was in any way true, Lyanna would have rather accepted Rhaegar into her bed than you!'

Of course that was not what he said out loud.

“Rhaegar shared her bed but not her body. Believe me, Lyanna had her tricks to assure that he thought otherwise without actually joining with him.”

'Forgive me, Regg.'

“How does it feel then, Dayne, tell me? Cheating a child under your best friend's conscience? Were you wishing for him to die so you could claim the child for yourself?” Robert snarled, more furious than before as he got to his feet and slammed a fist down on the table that shook, “Or were you hoping he would survive just long enough so you could see his whelps die and your son be crowned? You stole her from me, doesn't matter if it was you or the fucking dragon, she was supposed to be mine, and that boy was supposed to be mine, too! Knight or Kingsguard? What did you want to be for her? You were meant to protect her! Instead you're sitting here, painting me the fucking last dragon as the villain I already know him to be! All while I know that given the chance you'd still fall down on your knees to lick his boots! You're still Rhaegar's man!”

“But I'm not Rhaegar!!” 

Arthur surprised himself with his sudden outburst the most and needed a second to realize that he had indeed jumped to his feet and shouted the words out loud. The room was silent except for his loud breaths and the still dimly echoing sounds of his chair having fallen to the ground, eyes were staring at him, every single person other than Robert and him had frozen.

And now it had happened what he had not wished for.

Voices had gotten louder and Robert and him were both on their feet. Barristan and Jaime were exchanging looks with Richard. Ned was looking at Benjen and Aurane had his hand resting on his hip.

Arthur forced himself through a deep breath, he needed to get control back over the situation.

“I'm not him.” He continued calmer then but his voice still carrying a warning, something Jon Arryn understood better than his overgrown charge, for he raised a hand towards his king, “Whatever you wanna see me as, Robert, I'm not him. And punishing me for his mistakes is not going to bring Lyanna back. Killing me, it will not lessen the pain any further. She is gone, Robert, and you need to learn to move on.” Robert scoffed, hands curled into such tight fists that his knuckles were white, Arthur had no doubt that Robert was picturing those fists in his face and he himself could only do so much to not think about how easy it would be to take Aurane's dagger from him and sent it flying before either Barristan or Jaime could have moved.

Robert had gone too far.

“Do you believe you can ever forgive me for killing him?” Robert then suddenly wanted to know and Arthur didn't even blink before the words were pouring out of him.  
“No. I won't ever even come close to entertaining the thought. No matter what Rhaegar did or what he wanted to do, if given the time we would have repaired our friendship. I wanted him as my king and not burned at the Trident.” He let the words cut sharp, “I will never forgive that you took him from me.”

Aurane quietly stood up and pulled up Arthur's chair again before gently pushing him down onto it.

“You'll understand then that I will never be able forgive him or you for taking her away from me.” Robert set the words into the table nearly and Arthur saw from the corner of his eyes how Ned closed his eyes and brought a hand up to cover his face. Behind him, Aurane remained standing, one hand on his shoulder now, he had sensed or seen how thin Arthur's patience had become.

“Of course, I understand.” He answered Robert who was pulled down onto his own chair by a silent Ned who kept one hand on Robert's shoulder in a mimickry of Aurane's position with Arthur, “And forgiveness is not what I am asking of you.” He never would because Robert Baratheon's forgiveness was not something he needed or wanted.  
“What is it then that you're asking of me? Why should I not punish you for taking away my betrothed?” Robert huffed and growled, and a stag was not what Arthur was reminded of, more a pig, a fat ugly one.

Aurane's fingers dug into his collarbone in another warning to keep it together for some more minutes, this meeting was drawing to an end and they still had the winning hand.

“Because of Jon.” Arthur still couldn't help but let his voice harden, knew without a doubt that no one would think of the old man sitting on the king's right still. “Because there is a six year old boy who is already motherless.” Something flared up in Robert's eyes and Arthur lunged for it with a ruthlessness he would have never believed himself capable of. It must have shown on his face because Aurane knocked his knee against the back of his chair but it couldn't stop him anymore, “He is the one thing this world has left of Lyanna and not even you can be so cruel as to take his father away from him as well. An innocent child carrying her face.” 

Absolutely ignoring the fact that Robert had done exactly that before Jon had even been born.

Absolutely ignoring the fact that Robert had smiled at Jon's murdered siblings.

A moment of silence followed. All eyes on Robert as he clearly fought with himself, head over heart or maybe even the other way around.

When nothing happened after a good minute, it was Ned who moved first, leaning down he began to whisper a multitude of words into his friend's ear. Robert's face turned even more furious and then fell back into a blank mask.

“You're not leaving the Red Keep. I don't care what your companions do, even your sister can walk the city freely, but you're not leaving the keep until I made my decision.” Robert snarled once Ned had straightened up again, “You can leave now, I have nothing to say to you anymore.” Arthur inclined his head and got to his feet, Aurane immediately began to push him towards the door where Benjen and Richard were already leaving through.

“Dayne.” Robert called after him as Arthur already had one foot in the door, he looked back over his and Aurane's shoulders to meet blue eyes, “Do you still love her?”  
“I will always love Lyanna.” He answered, honest and quick and no act in those words at all, Robert stared at him for a moment and then waved them off.

They stepped into the corridor and as the door fell shut behind them, Richard and Benjen breathed out loudly, Arthur could almost hear the tension bleeding out of them. Arthur himself felt like throwing up, so he turned to Aurane.

“Get me to my room.” He pleaded with him quietly and Aurane simply grabbed his wrist and pulled him along, giving Benjen and Richard no chance but to follow them.

\--

The children took the absence of Arthur, Ashara, Benjen and Richard with more grace and stubborness than Andric would have expected at first. Alys was too young to realize that her father would not be around for a few moons, and Andric made sure Allyria had her rest and didn't exhaust herself in caring for her daughter.

Rhaena was doing best out of the older three, shadowing Eyrin during the day when she wasn't in her lessons and being utterly happy to observe what the Lady of Starfall did. Andric could almost already see his niece becoming more a Lady than either of his wild sisters had ever wanted to be. Gods, who was this child's father?

It were Torrhen and Jon who worried him from time to time, both of them were old enough to understand whispers from maids and guards, old enough to put things together if Jon's fear from the first night without Arthur had been any indication. Both boys could not remember really to have ever been more than half a day without their parental figures and they both reeled badly at times in their broken routines.

Torrhen was prone to great temper tantrums and often stalked out of lessons or sword training with yelled words, vanishing off to the small godswood and not returning until the sun was sinking. Only to later be pushed into Andric's solar by Jon to apologize for his behavior. Torrhen's temper was something that Andric could handle though, keeping the boy occupied with little tasks and sending him out riding or down to the harbor with Carral as often as possible did wonders, as it had with himself once upon a time when it had still been his father sitting behind this desk.

It was Jon's sullen silence and his resistence to fall asleep in some nights that made Andric wish time could fly by faster. Nightmares appeared not a day after Oberyn had needed to ride back to Sunspear and the Water Gardens, and Andric found himself nearly every evening with a nephew on his lap while he worked through some reports and petitions still.

Tyene's brief stay on her way back from Oldtown had Jon lighten up again for a bit, going from silence and downcast eyes back to quick fire questions about Oldtown and being attached to Tyene's hip, calling her 'my Lady' and showing how utterly adorable he could be. But Tyene had to leave again as well and Jon swept back into his silent spells in a speed that reminded Andric so painfully of Arthur and Rhaegar that he kept his nephew closer than ever.

He took Jon with him when he had to ride for High Hermitage, mostly also to separate him from Torrhen. Ever since Robb Stark's departure for White Harbor, his nephews were either inseparable or at each other's throats. And Dornish sun, Wolf's blood or Dragon fire, whatever it was, it made fights between a six year old and a seven year old way more dramatic than it should be, letting them both get away with bruises and tears.

Followed by Torrhen sulking and brooding in the godswood and Jon sitting like an unmovable rock on a chair in front of the empty mantle that held Dawn when no worthy bearer was found after an old one died.

Andric was only too happy that Edric found whatever game his cousins were playing at way too exhausting to take part in, let alone to choose sides.

Lucerys' arrival out of the blue was another much welcome distraction, for it not only brought along news that Aurane was indeed alright and had just chosen silence for once, but it also brought along a plan created by him to usher Arthur and the boy to safety if something went wrong under King Robert's unpredictable temper.

Torrhen and Jon latched onto Lucerys because he was still something not regular, and he brought stories along. He also spoke Valyrian fluent enough of course that the boys found it utterly hilarious to drive Andric insane with their refusal to speak anything else for a whole evening. Things looked to be turning up again.

And then came the trip down to the harbor.

“Do not look so defeated, nephew.” Lucerys spoke in half a chuckle, watching the two grim faced boys slump along the harbor battlement, side by side but utterly quiet. They were following Jon and Torrhen at a small distance, a small walk down to the harbor and back again, the usual round that Andric took at least once in a fortnight. A Lord needed to be seen, needed to appear approachable.

“I am not defeated, I am tired.” Andric protested against his uncle's words, stopping briefly to look over the offered goods of a Lyseni merchant, one of the few who was still seeking shelter at Dorne's coast as the war slowly sizzled out in Essos. Unless the tide turned harshly again, Volantis had won, which did not sound well for the long run, the first time in centuries that Volantis had been the aggressor and gotten out on top of it. “My brother, my sister, my goodbrother and a dear friend are in the rat's lair. The only protection they have is the Warden of the North whom I still don't entirely trust when it comes to Robert Baratheon, my cousin whose only communication in the last weeks is a letter sending you here as a precaution if things go wrong and my own household guards who were already watched with sharp suspicious eyes the last time they were there. And now my nephews have not only caught onto the tension but are suffering under it.”

“The boys will be fine. Everyone will be fine. And you can start lessening this tension by having some hope yourself.” Lucerys explained and kept his eyes on the boys, “They look to you right now. If you show worry, they echo it. I know that only too well from my own hellions.” Andric sighed and after promising the merchant to be back with his wife on the morrow, he continued the slow walk over the wall of the harbor.

A walkway above the docks where merchant sold their goods, where fishermen brokered their catch, once upon a time it had served as true battlements when the Kings of the Torrentine had protected the mouth of the river from pirates and other foreign forces. Now, they had nothing to fear anymore, and it was a lively place to walk and talk with the smallfolk and merchants.

At one point the wall spread out in an arrow like nook over the Torrentine bay and it was there that the boys had wandered off to and Andric and Lucerys followed them. It lowered down a little, a watchpoint where guards could throw a first look onto the crew of approaching ships, but it still hovered almost twelve feet above the sea.

“I just had hoped Torrhen and Jon would hold onto each other instead of starting to fight with each other.” Andric went on in his worries, glad to have his uncle here for this time. He might have been a man grown when his own father had died, but he had still longed to have guidance, to have someone he could turn to while his own siblings had not been off age and therefor his responsibility in sight of his lady mother's grief. His foster father had been one help, a help that had become brittle when Elion had sold Arthur off to the White Cloaks, but Lucerys had always been there, a rock in the storm.

“Boys will be boys, sometimes that means they have to test their stubborness against each other. Take it from someone who has been through both versions of the picture.” Lucerys told him with a small smile, “Arthur and you never fought very much, maybe that is because you had others who were closer to you than each other but who knows. I went through an eternal status of war between Corlyn and Jace, and an unhealthy dependance between Jace and Aurane. The middle ground is the one you want them in. Torrhen and Jon will be fine.”

Andric looked ahead to the boys and of course he caught them arguing again, who knew about what, he had given up on following their topics. At least they didn't shove at each other for once, instead Torrhen turned right to kick at some rocks and Jon climbed up on the edge of the wall to sit with his legs dangling down, no doubt scowling at the world.

Gods, Andric was happy he had a boy and girl.

“You know what helped when Corlyn and Jace were that age?” Lucerys whispered to him as they stopped to observe the boys, “Treasure hunts. Kept them occupied, forced to work together and it had the pleasant addition of getting them out of the keep and my eyes for hours.” Andric snorted in reply and then whistled, catching the boys' attention.  
“Come on, get over here and tell me what is going on again.” He told both of his nephews, Torrhen huffed but walked over and Jon reluctantly moved as well. 

There was a reason Andric had given up on the gods, their fate was cruel.

A stupid first thought to what happened next.

His eyes were only half on Jon because Torrhen was closer and he wanted his nephew to see that he was not impressed at all by this ongoing tension. And then his heart stopped.

Jon slipped and for just a split second Andric could still catch panicked wide violet eyes that had never before looked more like his brother's, then Jon was falling with a loud scream.

\--

Andric didn't think, no thought left in his mind, only pure actions.

He shoved Torrhen towards Lucerys, dropped the dagger he carried at his hip and then jumped after his nephew. The water was cold when he hit it, diving down before hurrying back to the surface.

“JON?” He screamed and looked around the blessfully calm sea, from far away he could hear other screams. “JON!” Heart pounding a mile an hour now, Andric took a deep breath and dove under the surface again, looking around the dark water. His lungs were burning when he broke up for air again.

And his ears filled with the desperate cry of the one word he had never loved so much.

“Uncle!”

Andric whirled around in the water and pushed himself over to his crying nephew with quick strokes, letting his legs do the work the very second he could pull Jon tight into his arms. “Are you okay?” He frantically wanted to know as thin shaking arms wrapped themselves around his neck, “Are you hurt, Jon?” But the boy didn't answer, shaking and trembling terribly while he cried into Andric's neck, “It's okay, it's okay. I got you, you're okay.”

“MY LORD!”

“Everything is gonna be okay, Jon.” Andric promised and then kept hold of him with one arm while the other pushed himself closer to the small boat that was being rowed towards them, two terrified sailors in it. Up on the docks, people were calling out.

“My Lord, are you and the boy hurt?” One of the sailors wanted to know as he stopped the boat as good as he could in the current of the bay.  
“We'll see that soon.” Andric said and gave Jon over to the arms reaching down towards the water, Jon didn't go silently but trashed and began screaming, fighting against the man who set him down into the boat so he could help Andric up as well. “Get us back on land, quick.”

Andric needed a good moment until he had Jon back into his arms, looking over every limb and inch of him while the boy continued to scream, shock giving over to hysteria. “Jon, it's okay, you're okay. I got you, okay? Uncle Andric is here, you're okay.” Jon wailed and shook so hard that Andric feared he would hurt himself again.

They reached the docks and more than one pair of hands helped them out of the boat and up onto the wooden pier. Lucerys was immediately there, wrapping his dry cloak around Andric and Jon both, hands looking over Jon while Andric's eyes tried to find the closest guard. Torrhen crashed against his back, quiet but hands holding onto his wet tunic with a strength that showed his fear.

“Someone run up to the castle and alarm Maester Darvin. Now!”

\--

He wasn't in his right mind.

Arthur justified the events that followed his confrontation with Robert Baratheon on that simple lone pathetic statement. 

Something he didn't deserve. Something Aurane didn't deserve.

But it happened.

Arthur was still very busy to keep himself from freaking out over how he had lost his cool in front of Rhaegar's killer, so he was very grateful that Aurane sent Richard and Benjen away to inform Ashara of what had happened and pushed Arthur into his given room before closing and barring the door.

Arthur pushed a hand over his face, and then both through his hair.

“You didn't do as terribly as you think it right now.” Aurane spoke up quietly and Arthur breathed out heavily when he felt the hand squeezing his shoulder. “You gave him something to think about. A lot to think about. Honestly, Arthur, it might as well be the best outcome for us.”

He needed Aurane to stop talking.

He just needed one moment of silence to breathe and realize that Aurane was right but Aurane just wouldn't stop talking.

“Seriously, I have never heard you snap at someone like that. Let alone a King. And I can't believe...”

And tired and emotionally drained as he was right then and there, Arthur's mind only came up with one solution.

Aurane gasped as his back hit the wall, seagreen eyes glancing down to where Arthur's hand was pressing him back against it. And then Aurane snapped his head up again, staring right into violet ones.

“Are you...”

Lips crashing against lips was the ultimate way to shut him up and Arthur did in fact sigh right against Aurane's lips when the silence fell over his mind. Beautiful peaceful silence. For a brief moment Aurane was so frozen against him that Arthur had just enough thought left for having done something utterly terribly wrong but then hands got pushed into his hair at the back of his head and Aurane kissed back.

\--

“I do not see any injuries, my Lord. He might have a few bruises come morning but nothing that needs tending to. I would advise to keep him and yourself warm to fight off any chills.”

Maester Darvin had to yell to let himself be heard over Jon's screaming.

“If you really do not want me to administer any calming draughts, there is nothing I can do for the moment, I fear.”

“Not yet.” Andric told him with his voice raised to be heard as well, continuing to rock the child in his arms in front of the stocked up high fireplace, “Thank you, Darvin.” Starfall's Maester nodded and then left, leaving Andric alone with Lucerys and Eyrin, Allyria gone to soothe the children and especially Torrhen. “Oh, Jon, it's okay, it's okay.” Jon was holding onto him, refusing to be let go.

He had fought like a madman when Andric had set him down on the table to let Darvin check him over, so they had needed to do it with Andric holding him while sitting in a chair. A position he had quickly abandoned again once Darvin was done to wrap Jon in a fur, down to his smallclothes as he was, and rock him while his nephew held onto his neck and screamed for his Papa.

“Give him here, Andric.” Lucerys said after another moment and Andric looked over to him, knew that his eyes were wide, seeing his nephew fall down that stupid wall over and over again. “Come on, nephew, you need to change into dry clothes before you get sick. And grab something for the boy as well.” Reluctantly Andric handed Jon over who struggled for a long moment before Lucerys hushed him, strong arms holding him. “Now, it's okay, Jon, it's just Uncle Lucerys. Your Uncle Andric needs to get dry real quick.”

It took another half an hour until the castle corridors were no longer ringing with Jon's screams, but only because the boy had screamed himself right into exhaustion. 

“That is an experience I never want to repeat.” Andric said quietly, sitting in the armchair they had dragged as close to the fire as it was smart to do. Jon was passed out against his chest, wearing fresh warm clothes and wrapped in a sheep fur, his face still flushed where he hadn't stopped crying or begging for Arthur. And speaking of his brother, “Arthur is going to kill me.”

“It was an accident, my dear.” Eyrin said from where she was checking over the tea she had called to be brought up. “He's gonna be just fine and Arthur will understand.” Andric sighed in response and looked down at his nephew's sleeping face again, stroking a finger over a furrowed brow in a hope to smoothe out the tension there.

Jon had screamed for Arthur so much that surely everyone in the castle had heard him and it broke his heart to know that even if they sent a raven tonight still, Arthur could not return to Starfall for weeks. They needed to figure this one out alone, calm Jon on their own without the magical touch of a father's soothing hands. Andric knew just how deep a bond could be, especially between father and son, he saw it in Edric who was way more prone already to search him out instead of his mother when something was wrong.

“Uncle?” A voice whispered from the doorway and Andric looked around, catching sight of a redeyed Torrhen hanging back around the doorframe, only hesitantly peeking into the room. He looked terrified and Andric quickly motioned for him to come over, “Is Jon gonna be okay?”  
“Jon is gonna be absolutely fine if he rests for a bit and gets kept warm.” Andric comforted the other shaken up nephew, patting the armrest of the chair, just big enough to easily hold Torrhen's weight. “Where are the others, Torrhen?”

“Aunt Ally put them to bed.” Torrhen explained tiredly, snuggling against his side, eyes firmly set on Jon, “I was so scared, Uncle.”  
“Aye, I was, too, Torrhen. That was a terrible accident today, but Jon is gonna be okay and that is all that matters. I do not know what you two were fighting about before Jon fell, but I need you to know that you should not feel guilty about anything. Accidents happen and no one got hurt.” Andric told him all softly and Torrhen nodded, eyes dropping close more often.

“Can I stay with Jon tonight? I don't wanna fight with him anymore, and I don't want him to be alone.” His nephew mumbled sleepily and Andric smiled.  
“You two will stay with me tonight then.” He decided, exchanging a quick look and then not with his wife. They had separate chambers, even though they rarely used them usually, preferring to sleep in one bed, but among this tension and with a babe still being nursed at her mother's breast, Eyrin had chased him from her rooms because his tossing and turning kept her from getting the rest she needed.

It was a little effort to get Torrhen up the stairs in his half sleeping state while carrying Jon in his arms but somehow Andric managed it, and some minutes later he had both boys draped all over himself under the blankets of his bed. 

“I don't ever want to lose Jon.” Torrhen whispered while Andric carded fingers through his nephews' hair, “I never ever want to lose Jon.”  
“You will never lose Jon, Torrhen, not if you two keep true and loyal to each other. Sometimes the world takes people apart for a time, like your Mama and your uncles at the moment from us, but they'll return to us soon, and just like that Jon and you will always find your ways back to each other, too.” Andric quietly said and he could see in the fading moonlight how Torrhen wrapped a hand around Jon's on his chest.

“Because that's what brothers do, right? They're always there for each other.”

“Yes, exactly like that. And now sleep, we'll have to be there for Jon tomorrow.”

\--

As they waited another day for Robert to make a decision, Ashara found herself having tea with Ned and Jon Arryn, a truly awkward affair when Jon Arryn's wife Lysa opted out of the occasion, feeling too unwell. Ashara had heard better lies from her seven year old son.

It was stilted cold conversation that not even the bland tea could warm up in any way or form, and Ashara was truly thinking about making up excuses herself or faking a sudden nausea. The only one present who wouldn't buy it was Barristan and he was simply a guard outside the door. Richard and Benjen had ridden out for the day to get a chance to actually breathe, Arthur was somewhere with Aurane.

Again.

When they were out of the capital, she was going to ask her brother just what was going on there. Arthur and Aurane had ever only really gotten along when others had been around, whether it be Rhaegar or Richard to level them out, Connington to offer up a front to join up against or Myles to have them remind themselves of their manners.

And suddenly Aurane was sneaking out of her brother's room in the mornings.

'Oh, Arthur, have you found the beauty of carnal pleasure now finally as well?'

Ashara nearly snickered into her tea and across from her at the table in the garden, Ned raised an eyebrow.

“Despite the tension that has now fallen over us, there is a topic I wanted to discuss with you, Lady Ashara.” Jon Arryn was a man who could turn a blind eye on people's moods or loyalties so easily that it upset Ashara as much as it impressed her. This man knew exactly how the Dornish were looking at his king and he still pretended like it was no big thing at all. “King Robert has expressed ideas to legitimize your son, to give him the Stark name.”

She didn't even need to look to see how Ned had tensed, eyes narrowing at the Lord of the Vale and she couldn't blame him, not at all after what he had told her about the threat Robert had made to him upon his departure from King's Landing for Starfall.

Her son carrying the Stark name, being bestowed with an honor to buy Ned's loyalty to the crown.

Torrhen as a pawn?

Over her dead body.

“That is a generous offer, Lord Arryn, but I can assure you that my son will want for nothing as a Sand in Dorne. All the dreams he will have, he can just as well achieve them as a bastard.” She told the Hand of the King with a soft smile, in Dorne people would know that it was a sign of danger. Ashara Dayne smiled as she struck.

“We would have him placed below Ned and his children in the succession for Winterfell, of course.” Jon Arryn went on as if he hadn't even heard her, dipping his cookie into his tea, and that was something she hated the most about men in positions of power. Ashara set her cup down onto the table and leaned forward a little, finally prompting Jon Arryn to look up.  
“With all due respect, Lord Arryn, I will not have my son be a pawn in any game of thrones and below Ned's trueborn children or not, we all know that with the Stark name he will become just that.” She stated in the dangerously quiet voice she had once upon a time learned from the Princess of Dorne.

“I mean no such endeavors, Lady Ashara. I merely offer your son a trueborn name.” Jon Arryn looked affronted at her insinuation but Ashara could see the hidden act behind it, Ned was quiet but disapproving all the same.  
“And my daughter?” She probed into the topic, lunging onto her target when Jon Arryn squirmed, “Will she grow up looking at her legitimized brother and wonder why she wasn't good enough to carry any other name than Sand?”

“We would have to know the girl's father to...”

“You won't have to know anything about her father.” She snapped angrily, shaking off Ned's hand when it came to rest on her arms soothingly, “You could offer to have her carry my name, but you don't care because you cannot gain any political influence by legitimizing her. So for one last time, Lord Arryn, I am grateful for the offer but I decline. My children will not become pieces in your plots.” And she pushed her chair back and got to her feet, both men hurried to stand up as well but Ashara didn't give a shit about proper decorum then. “If you excuse me, I believe the tea did not become me, I shall retire.”

She left without waiting for an answer, slamming the door shut the second she was through it. Barristan snapped his head around and frowned when he caught sight of her, breathing heavier and with hands fisted at her sides.

“Shara?”

“Can you walk with me?”

“Of course.”

\--

“How many times have I dreamed of pulling righteous wonderful Ser Arthur Dayne into dark corners in this very palace to seduce him away from the clutches of the Silver Prince...”

“Aurane, if you don't stop talking right about now, I'll be shoving you into dark corners where you will not find your way out of again in a million years.” Arthur snarled and only too late realized that he had done exactly what Aurane had wanted for him to do, breaking the strained silence he had fallen into since stepping down into the tunnels under the Red Keep.

They hadn't talked or so much as breathed a word about the night after his confrontation with Robert and Arthur was driven a little bit crazy by it. It wasn't Aurane's nature to keep silent about something and not just immediately go off and brag about his conquests, especially not one he had been after for over a decade. But Aurane was his normal self and Arthur was nearly itching to know what he was thinking about.

Arthur had woken up the morning after alone and confused, and then mortified. Aurane had appeared later, grinning as always, snatching Arthur away from this thoughts.

Arthur glanced to the side now and found Aurane's smug smirk in the light of the torch he carried in his right hand, disregarding personal space as he usually tended to do with people older than six and ten who hadn't yet said no.

Arthur had said no for fourteen years. Until that evening two days ago.

“And what if I want to be shoved into dark corners?” Aurane answered almost as expected, smirk brightening even more, Arthur rolled his eyes and brushed past him to get walking again. The problem was that despite the very familiar feeling of annoyance seeping into his blood, he had bloody missed Aurane and his the-stranger-may-care attitude. And his shameless flirting was not igniting frustration now, it was bringing up memories of kisses, touches and his voice.

And gods be truly damned, Arthur did not have time to get distracted in this place.

“Where are we going then?” Aurane spoke up again in the next moment, keeping close, Arthur could feel him twitch from time to time when the torch light illuminated another dragon skull. Getting bigger and bigger. They were soon to reach the fearsome three.  
“I need to get something.” Arthur answered Aurane's question after a short pause, lips curling into a smile when Meraxes' skull built itself up out of the shadows and he sent some thoughts home to the little boy who was maybe playing with her namesake.

'Yes', he thought in triumph, 'Think of Jon, just think of Jon and home and family.'

“It's a peculiar place to hide something.” Aurane offered up his thoughts, taking quicker steps so he drew equal with Arthur, “Especially for you. Since when did you ever think to bury your secrets in dark dungeons?”  
“It's not me who buried something here.” Arthur told him and swung right as the flame illuminated Vhagar's skull, in the far distance Balerion lurked, the highest bones of his skull almost reaching the ceiling. Aurane made an aborted sound and then kept quiet, mind immediately connecting the dots.

“You got any idea what we are expecting to find?” Aurane pushed on with the questions, silence was truly a death sentence for him. Arthur also found it adorable how 'I' had quickly turned into 'we'. They passed by Vhagar and dropped down into a lower tunnel that had been built as an escape route a long long time ago. As Rhaegar and Arthur had realized when they were fourteen though it ran absolutely nowhere, stopping at a dead end maybe fifteen minutes out from where Rhaegar's secret now hopefully still laid hidden.

“Whatever it was, it fit into a small chest, not bigger than both of my fists.” Arthur answered Aurane and looked around when they came to a crossing with two turns, trying to find the barely visible nodge in a brick that a well sharped dagger had made. Once discovered he pulled Aurane left.

“Rhaegar didn't tell you what was inside?” Aurane wanted to know and even without looking at him Arthur could imagine the frown on his face. There truly hadn't been a lot that Rhaegar had not told him about, they hadn't kept more than a hand full of secrets between each other, but Arthur had never questioned it. Every man or woman was allowed to keep something just to himself.

“He told me that it was only important for me to get the chest if he was dead before his time. Considering that I never entertained that thought for long, I didn't care about what he may have hidden.” Arthur explained and was proud of himself when his voice didn't hitch as badly as he had expected it to. Out in the open, watched from all sides, it was easy to keep up the facade, to pretend the animosity that the lie forced him to feel for Rhaegar, it was easy to wear a blank emotionless face because being around Aerys had taught him to be a stone.

But alone with Aurane, he could let himself be at ease, and it opened up that rip in his heart that was hurting something fierce since this lie had been created. Aurane bumped their elbows together and gave Arthur silence as comfort until Arthur stopped them seemingly in the middle of the corridor.

He handed the torch to Aurane and knelt down at the right wall, drawing a dagger to cut at the brick that he thought to be the right one. 

By the time he was pulling the fifth unusual looking brick out of the wall and found nothing behind it but stone, Aurane was visibly biting back his words. He had sat down on the ground on the opposite wall, showing more patience already than Arthur had known from him before. As he glanced behind himself though now, stupid brick falling to the ground from his hand, seagreen eyes were immediately on him in the light of the torch that was slowly burning down now. 

They had brought a spare, and even if they had to find their way up in the dark, Arthur was positive he would be able to do it.

“Sixth one will be it.” Aurane encouraged, gifting him a smile though his eyes also told of a lot of comments he was biting back for the sake of friendship and family.  
“Pick one.” Arthur demanded from him, good hiding spot indeed, Aurane pointed to one two up from where Arthur had dug out the fourth one. 

Arthur set the dagger to the ridge beneath the stone and then grunted when it slipped right through like having been cutting butter, he gave a victorious huff then and smiled when Aurane scrambled to his feet behind him to crowd closer. The brick was out with a little tugging and they were greeted by a small cavity, just large enough to hold the simple black box. Arthur handed the dagger to Aurane and took the box into his hand, he didn't bother with setting the bricks back, not like they were really hiding anything anymore now.

The box was unlocked and his heart was beating stronger when he flipped open the top, bringing to their eyes a simple looking key made from iron. 

Aurane made a small “huh” as Arthur picked up the key and held it into the light of the torch, there was nothing to be seen on it, not a sigil, just a small carving of a word that Arthur didn't know.  
“You don't by chance know what this key has locked, hm?” Aurane wanted to know after they had nearly spent a minute just staring at it and Arthur grimaced. “Right. That's...a puzzle then.”  
“I hate puzzles.” Arthur grouched and turned the key around again, his mind turning itself over and over in trying to figure out how Rhaegar had wanted him to understand this. “You know Valyrian even better than me, does this word look familiar to you?”

“No.” Aurane said and shook his head, “Maybe it's Valyrian of old, we both only knew the newer tongue. I couldn't even ever read the poems Rhaegar had lying around everywhere. Or it's one of the dialects.” He tried to make sense of it, Arthur sighed and decided to follow up on that thought later, he had the key, whatever it unlocked it wasn't in King's Landing, Rhaegar had hinted at so much.

“Let's get back up. I don't want to be down here when Robert finally comes to a decision. We can figure out more in my room.” 

They made their way through the tunnels again until they reached the dragon skulls, the key felt heavy in Arthur's pockets like the answer was right there on the tip of his tongue.

“Arthur...” Aurane held him back just before they turned the corner into the lighted corridor that would bring them into the main part of the Red Keep. “About that night, don't get headaches over it. It happened, you needed something, I understand, alright? It can happen again, but if it doesn't, it's not going to change anything.”

“Thank you.”

Aurane smiled at him and then stepped back into the sunlit corridor, right in the path that Barristan and Ashara had been taking. Barristan frowned right away about catching Aurane holding a torch and smudges of dirt on his face from where he had walked right into Vhagar's skull when Arthur hadn't been able to resist spooking him. Ashara raised both eyebrows into the heavens when Arthur stepped next to him, his fingers dirty from cutting out bricks.

His sister was never gonna let him get away without an explanation.

\--

“We have no other choice, Robert.”

“I always have another choice.” Robert snarled and slammed his hand against the wall of his solar but the fury in his veins it wouldn't stop, it was coloring his vision red but for the first time in years he wasn't seeing Rhaegar's fucking face beneath his hands.

It was Dayne's.

Fucking perfect Dayne.

“Robert, more than half the realm knows about this already.” Jon reasoned, sitting calmly behind Robert's desk with all of his precious papers, “Arthur Dayne is not Rhaegar Targaryen, he's got a reputation that even this truth cannot hurt. People will hear about him falling in love with Lyanna Stark and they will swoon, they will not tattle about broken Kingsguard vows or broken betrothals. And don't get me started on political consequences if you punish Arthur Dayne now.”

“I don't care about political consequences.” Robert yelled and whirled around to face his former foster father again, hands balled into fists at his side, arms trembling with the effort it took to keep his rage contained.  
“You should.” Jon surprised him when he snapped, eyes narrowed in his direction, “Arthur Dayne is not just bloody someone, Robert. He is the Sword of the Morning and if you put him in any cells, he will call for a trial of combat or even a trial of the Seven, and I can assure you you will not find any champion who will go up against him and win. He is a son of Dorne and as quiet as they may be right now, you'll have an army of spears standing on our doorstep if you think to imprison Dayne. And he is half Velaryon, too, though I know you certainly forget that. Do you want to lose your fleet a week after Balon Greyjoy went into rebellion?”

“My fleet is not made up of Velaryons...”

“Their leading captain is!”

“Fucking Aurane Waters...”

“Your personal vendetta against the man aside. Aurane Waters and Arthur Dayne are second cousins. And your brother's unwillingness to open himself up to the islanders has left him with a mockery of rule in the Crownland islands. It's the Velaryons who rule the islanders, it's the Velaryons who still rule our fleet in all but name. They look to Waters and his half-brother, not to Stannis, and if Waters turns his back on us, Corlyn Velaryon will, too, and then we're left with only Redwyne ships to fight against the Ironborn and your betrothal to the Florent girl is not yet a fortnight old.”

“So, we're fucked?”

“We're only fucked if you cannot let go of personal matters.” Jon grouched, setting some letters hard onto the table, “You're not deaf, Robert, you can hear the voices from within the city, you hear the reports that Ser Jaime is giving from the Kingswood. It's been six years and still the smallfolk is not happy, and now you want to imprison their White Knight?”

“He's no longer a Kingsguard.”

“He is still their Knight, their Ser Arthur and the gods be damned, Robert. What do you think will come out of it? He's just one man, and he's absolutely right, killing him is not gonna bring Lady Lyanna back. Instead it will rob us of a good fleet while Balon Greyjoy crowns himself King, it will bring us rebelling mobs of smallfolk who already hate you and will forever love Arthur Dayne, it will bring us Dorne cutting itself off from the Seven Kingdoms and it will bring Ned even more trouble with the Northern Lords.”

“So I do nothing? Despite what he did? Him and that fucking dragon? Betrayed his trust and their friendship and still Arthur Dayne is loyal to fucking Rhaegar Targaryen. If I could have men with that devotion I wouldn't need to play at bloody politics.” Robert growled and sank down into the first chair he could find, grabbing for the closest cup so he could fill it with wine.

Jon sighed and dragged a hand over his face.

“Robert, you know that I respect you but you are King now, and a King cannot live in the past. You have several issues in the here and now, we have a war coming to us, something we need to prepare for. You do not have the time for personal vengeance anymore, cut that out of your head. Those things died with Rhaegar Targaryen on the Trident, you're not a young Lord anymore, you're a King, so start acting like one. Show mercy and maybe these people will stop seeing you as the Usurper King.” Jon reasoned and Robert swallowed two mouthfuls of wine before he even wanted to entertain that thought for longer than a second.

“It should have been my son.”

“But it isn't.” Jon held against him, he looked tired, the old man, “Jon Dayne is not your son, but a motherless boy who needs a father, and unfortunately that is Arthur Dayne. Hate the man for the rest of your life, what do I care what goes on inside your head, as long as it remains inside your head.” Robert gritted his teeth, “We make the wedding between Dayne and Lyanna accepted by the crown to make Jon Dayne trueborn, let it be seen as your good will.”

“He has to get away with a punishment.” Robert demanded and met his Hand's eyes, “I'm not letting him get away believing he won. Never, not him. Politics be damned, Arthur Dayne is not leaving this city without a punishment.”

\--

_He saw him standing in the shadow of the great oak tree that stood as the heart tree in the godswood, his back turned towards Arthur, his hands clasped in front of him, face turned down as he silently stood observing the vines swaying in the light breeze._

_He was wearing the old armor, the one he had been gifted by his mother when he had been knighted, almost all black but the many clasps and the belt in glittering blood red, a dragon mid roar on his chest, but not in rubies._

_“Rhaegar?”_

_He turned around, smiling bright over at Arthur, a hand coming up, held out for him and Arthur felt like he couldn't move fast enough until he had crossed over to him. He took Rhaegar's hand and gasped when he felt warm flesh beneath his fingers._

_“I miss you.” Arthur whispered while desperation clawed at his heart, “I miss you so much.” He reached up to trace a finger over Rhaegar's jaw, indigo eyes studied him, soft and gentle. Rhaegar said nothing, just pulled him into a hug and Arthur clung to him._

_And missed the sound of steel being drawn._

_“I'm sorry but it won't hurt, not much, not for long.” Rhaegar spoke up and Arthur frowned as they broke apart again, Rhaegar still wore that beautiful smile, even as he turned Arthur around and wrapped his arms tightly around Arthur's arms and chest, holding him still._

_Holding him still as Lyanna approached from between two low elm trees, blue dress so vivid in the dark greens of the godswood and in her hands Rhaegar's sword was shining silver in the sunlight._

_“Lya...”_

_“It won't hurt long.” Rhaegar promised almost again, his lips brushing against Arthur's right ear, “It's okay, she'll make it quick. Robert won't get you, Arthur, I promise. We're gonna take you now, with us, so it won't hurt.”_   
_“Take me where?” Arthur wanted to know, frozen still in Rhaegar's arms while Lyanna smiled at him, grey eyes so beautiful, “Lya, Regg, I don't understand.”_

_“It's gonna be okay.” Lyanna said as well, “It's all gonna be okay now. No more lies, Arthur, I promise you, no more guilt and no more lies. Just us.” And she raised the sword and plunged it into Arthur's chest._

Arthur awoke with a scream that made his chest burn in pain as he bolted upright on the bed and began to claw at his tunic, kicking against the sheets.

“Arthur?”

He needed to get the bloody tunic off, why couldn't he get the bloody tunic off and why was it so hot in this damn place, it was never hot in the fucking guest rooms. His hands were shaking and he felt like throwing up, bile rising in his chest while pain threatened to slice him in half.

“Hey, what's wrong?”

Hands on his, trying to hold him still, but Arthur couldn't let them, he needed to get this tunic off before he choked in it, chest burning more and more with every half abandoned breath.

“Arthur, let me help you.”

A weight swung onto him and then hands slammed Arthur back down onto he bed, tightly pressing down when he struggled. And with a snap, Arthur's vision stopped being a blurred mess, the sight above him turning into Aurane looking deeply worried, shirtless as he straddled Arthur and kept both hands pressing him down into the pillows.

“It's okay, Arthur, it's okay. It was just a dream, you're okay.” Aurane insisted and Arthur knew, he knew it all but he still couldn't breathe and gods no, no, please don't let it happen again. Not now, not here.  
“Off.” He croaked out somehow, right hand fisted in his tunic, “Off, please.” He grimaced and threw his head back when the stabbing in his chest only got worse.

“Okay.” Aurane gave in, “But you gotta let me help you.” He shifted back until he was straddling Arthur's thighs and then helped him sit up. Aurane pushed his hands away and then pulled off Arthur's tunic on his own. The moment it was off, he cradled Arthur's face in his hands. “Look at me, it's only been a dream.”

Arthur dropped his head forward until his forehead fell against Aurane's chest and Aurane's hand slid up into his hair to the back of his head.

“I need to leave this place before I go crazy.” Arthur whispered when his breath slowly returned to him, Aurane made some soothing sounds, “He got into my fucking head.”  
“Not long anymore.” Aurane told him, sounding more convinced than Arthur could bring himself to feel, “He'll come to a decision soon, and either I'll smuggle you out or I'll bring you home. Just hold on a little longer.”

\--

Court was called in quickly that following morning and Robert frowned when the people whispered as Arthur Dayne calmly walked down the main aisle, eyes humbly focused on the ground and it made Robert grind his teeth to know it not to be a fucking act. It was the damn man's nature.

He was no mummer, this man, too damn honorable and honest and fucking humble.

How had Robert despised him as a boy, brought to court by his father to be introduced before riding North for the Eyrie, a small warrior he had thought himself to be. Proud he had been of the praise he had earned, eager to show what he could do to true warriors, to heroes and legends.

And then he had found this skinny silverblond boy in the Knight's courtyard, Kingsguard and Knights alike cheering him on, and the boy had fought like no one Robert had ever seen. Not even breaking a real sweat while he sent squire after squire into the dirt. And when it was all over and praise got heaved onto this boy's shoulders, all he did was dug his head down, blush crimson and ask for critics instead.

And then later, even before Arthur Dayne wore that damn white cloak, tourney after tourney Robert had longed to get the chance to have his try, to meet him in the melee. To prove to himself and the stupid fucking realm that this boy was only a man after all and not some Warrior reborn. But of course Arthur Dayne didn't fight in the melee, that was work for dirty men, for those who needed to impress still. Arthur Dayne might have been the secondborn son of a rather minor House that was only important in Dorne but he was the Sword of the Morning and the Crown Prince's best friend, and men in his status joined the lists.

And won. Fucking _perfect_ at everything he did and touched. Crowning his own sister as the safe line because Arthur Dayne would never dare cause even the notion of a scandal.

At the Trident, Robert had waited with baited breath as he fought the fucking dragon for his White Knight to appear, to finally get that chance, to make it the first, the last, the only time he would ever fight Arthur Dayne face to face. It hadn't come.

And now he knew why.

His Lyanna, his wonderful beautiful Lyanna, having fallen in love with this man.

This very man now getting down on one knee at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the Iron Throne and Robert didn't miss at all how Selmy and Lannister exchanged a look. Arthur Dayne was Dornish, he didn't have to kneel for the king, he only had to bow, but of course he would kneel, of course Arthur Dayne's fucking unfailing morals would have him kneel.

And how could a woman not want the pinnacle of perfect honor and manners, of chivalry and valiant knighthood. How would anyone ever compare to Arthur Dayne, even a Silver Prince, even a King? Of course Lyanna had chosen him, fallen in love with his good heart and his soft smiles.

And this today, it was the one thing Robert could still do for her. For her and her only. Her memory that would live on in her son, even if the father was the wrong man.

 _'It should have been my son'_ Robert thought one last time before he bit Arthur Dayne to rise, watching as the man did so in the utter silence of the throne room. Remaining behind further back in the hall, Ashara Dayne was wringing her hands, standing between Lonmouth and Benjen Stark, Aurane fucking Waters hovering at Lonmouth's shoulder, his annoying green eyes staring straight ahead at Robert. From the side Ned was watching him next to Jon.

“In the name of the crown, I, King Robert, the first of his name, rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms,” And yes, throwing salt in every open wound as much as he could, Arthur Dayne stared emotionlessly back at him, and it were Ser Barristan and Ser Jaime who twitched in their positions. “I retroactively declare your vows sworn to the Kingsguard ended and your marriage to Lady Lyanna Stark accepted in the eyes of the crown. The only condition I have for you, Ser Arthur, is to keep yourself out of the capital once your visit here has concluded itself. Forever.” 

He had wanted him banished from the Crownlands entirely but Jon had argued that the Velaryons would not take well to family contacts being cut off and oh, how Robert hated those old dragonlovers. Hated his brother for forcing him to interact with the smuggest of them all on a daily basis.

“I will not oppose that condition, Your Grace.”

“And to have Lyanna's son presented at court at a point of your choosing before he comes off age.” After those words, a muscle jumped at Arthur Dayne's jaw but he only inclined his head in acceptance and then waited to be dismissed. Robert did so and grumbled to himself under his breaths as some people in the crowd huffed in disappointment over a failed drama.

\--

The doors to Arthur's room closed and Ashara threw herself into his arms, and he in turn held her close as they both breathed in relief. Richard began to pour wine and Benjen sank down into a chair with a loud sigh.

Over his sister's shoulder, Arthur caught Aurane's eyes.

“Gimme another day to get my affairs in order then I'll sail you to Starfall. You'll be back with your little ones in half the time it would take you on horseback.”

\--

“Wow.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It just means 'wow'.”

“I don't like how you said it.”

Taking a deep breath, Arthur turned his back on Aurane and Richard arguing in sight of Aurane's new ship that Arthur would prefer to not be forced to put into words. Wow, indeed. Barristan threw one last look over to the other two men and then glanced at him.

“I'm very glad it turned out as it did.”

“Yeah.” Arthur sighed and walked over to a few crates, sitting down on the biggest one, Barristan followed him but remained standing.  
“Was it the truth?” Barristan whispered his question then and Arthur looked up at blue eyes, eyes that not only belonged to a former sworn brother now, but also to one of the men who had made him who he was, who had taught him, protected him, supported him, encouraged him. “Or was it a truth for a king?”

Arthur fought a war inside his mind for a good long moment, eyes turning to watch Aurane and Richard squabble over the peacock of a flagship.

“I can't answer you that.” He answered Barristan with a sigh then, going on before the older knight could say something, “It's not because I don't trust you. I do.” He insisted and looked back at Barristan, “Of course I still trust you, but that is also why I can't do it. Aurane's shoulders already weigh heavy under the burden of the true story, and I can't do the same to you. How did you suspect something to be wrong?”

Barristan smiled and set a hand to his shoulder to squeeze, Arthur didn't know how he had needed it until the gesture was there.

“Be assured that no one else would have. Jon Arryn and Robert Baratheon do not know you at all, and Jaime does not know you well enough, but I do. And though I cannot say that I have any idea on what is going on here, but I saw in your eyes how much it pained you to color Rhaegar the villain. You still love him, I can see that.”  
“One day.” Arthur promised him and took a deep breath, “One day, I will tell you truth, the whole story.” Barristan slapped his shoulder and they shared a smile before Aurane's loud huff distracted them.

“You still suck, Lonmouth, I have no idea why we ever became friends.” Aurane muttered as he stalked back over to them, Richard following him with loud laughter. “No fucking idea why I show you beautiful things, you can't tell roses from weeds.” Aurane sulked and Arthur rolled his eyes over his behavior. “Let's go back to the keep, if we want to leave tomorrow, we need to pack. And one more word, Richard, and you can ride back to Dorne.”

They passed by the sparring yard on the way back into the Red Keep and where he had felt faint over the sheer story of it three years ago was Arthur now even smiling when he saw the entire courtyard focused on the two knights sparring off against each other. Jaime and Benjen were focused but still relaxed, sharing smirks as they fought.

“You knighted the young Stark, didn't you?” Barristan asked him as they watched, Aurane and Richard hurrying forward to join the crowd.  
“I did, he deserved it.” Arthur explained and watched the reactions of the other people, Kingsguards stoic but still attentive, other knights closely watching, squires excitedly whispering with each other. Ashara was standing at the side, talking quietly with a woman Arthur didn't recognize. “Just like Jaime did.”

“Your forgiveness meant a great deal to him. I haven't seen his shoulders this light in a long time.” Barristan mentioned and Arthur smiled, knew those words to be true, he had seen it in the night in the Kingswood village.  
“Then he might be feeling even better soon.” He chuckled just as Jaime and Benjen broke apart with a laugh, shaking hands, Barristan smiled as he caught onto his thoughts, “Hey, Jaime, good for another round?”

The crowd went silent but Jaime's eyes lit up and that was all that counted for Arthur.

\--

“Why do I feel like I will come to regret this?” Jaime hissed as he stepped into another dark staircase, the torch he was holding the only source of light. Arthur bit down on his lip when Aurane made hand gestures intent to throttle the Kingsguard behind his back. It was astonishing that those two rubbed against each other so badly, but apparently it took one smug idiot to annoy another.

And probably better than the alternative. Aurane and Jaime blabbing on in one go and never stopping, now there was a headache Arthur could gladly go without. The Usurper's decision was not even a day old yet, and as grateful as he was for the good ending to the whole nightmare, Arthur only wanted home now.

Home to Dorne.

Home to Starfall.

Home to Jon.

Home to a future where his son would live a lie but one that kept him safe and away from gossiping mouths and treacherous minds. Jon was safe and Arthur's honor only half torn apart, could have barely gone any better.

“Don't worry, Lannister, your white cloak won't be seeping red this time.” Aurane chuckled and then howled when Arthur sharply elbowed him, glaring at him for that comment. Sheepishly almost Aurane rolled his eyes but didn't apologize, not that Jaime would expect him to or need one. Instead the Kingsguard grumbled something under his breath and made a sharp right as they reached the bottom of the last staircase leading down into the Black Cells.

Arthur knew the way, would have easily found it still even after more than six years of not having worn a white cloak himself. A Kingsguard was not an unusual sight down in the dungeons below the Red Keep, even if they had usually preferred to shoulder the handling of prisoners off to the other household guards or even the City Watch.

The Black Cells were dirty and white cloaks attracted dirt like honey did the flies. And when you spent your day already serving a paranoid mad king you could do without the crazy and tormented wails of prisoners down in the deepest darkest cells of the Seven Kingdoms.

“Why did he even have to come along?” Jaime demanded to know when they moved down the broader corridor, Aurane and Arthur settling on either side of Jaime as the space allowed it. “Richard would have served just as well, maybe even better. My father still thinks him dead, two ghosts coming to haunt him.” Jaime snarled in the bitterness that Arthur had noted every time they had talked about Tywin Lannister in the last days.

“Oh, I can play a ghost coming back to haunt him just fine. And I'm here because I'm not letting Arthur go alone with you anywhere, Lannister. Let alone to face the man who deemed it worthy to...” A sharp hiss of his name from Arthur had Aurane shut up once more, Jaime glanced at both of them in turn, seemingly confused over how much control Arthur had over Aurane who never let anyone tell him what to do.

Arthur himself was confused over how quickly Aurane gave in to his wishes.

Jaime stopped in front of the black door and handed the torch off to Arthur so he could pull out the keychain he had taken from the dungeon master before sending him to a break for the next two hours. No one was to overhear what was being said here today. Tywin's trial had a date set now, the already arranged execution had a date as well and Arthur had no intention to stay for another fortnight in the capital, as tempting as it may be to see the bastard be killed.

He wanted home.

Jaime set the key into the lock and then turned to face Arthur once more, “Whatever you want to say to him, please keep in mind that until his head is off, he is still dangerous.”  
“Don't worry, Jaime, I'm the last person in this city who will ever underestimate him. I just want to chat.” Arthur reassured him and smiled, fully well knowing that his eyes spoke an entirely different language. 

He had some things to say to the old lion.

Jaime sighed but turned the key and then opened the door, “You have an hour. I can give you no longer.” Arthur nodded and squeezed Jaime's shoulder as he passed by him, “And don't kill him.”  
“I won't.” Arthur promised as he stepped into the darkness, Aurane right at his back and three steps in, Jaime closed the door from the outside and Arthur threw a good look around the small stinking cell with the light of the torch in his hands. 

In the left back corner, Tywin Lannister stirred.

Green eyes opened and Arthur could feel Aurane stand at his shoulder, the shock was clear to see on the old Lion's face in the next moment.

“Just in case you're wondering. You're not hallucinating, I'm as real as it can get. More alive than you are for sure.” Arthur began, crouching down to bring himself to eye level with the pathetic figure of the great former Lord of the Rock, handing the torch over to Aurane. “And it's about time someone from Dorne has a little talk with you.”

\--

Arthur found himself approached by Robert one more time as they both watched the Manderly ship sail off from the Blackwater Bay, carrying Ned Stark and his guards North again. Benjen and Richard made to step down from Aurane's ship again but Aurane caught Arthur's eyes and held them back, pushing them towards the door leading below deck.

“I don't want you to come back to the capital, I mean it, Dayne.” Robert began and Arthur didn't look at him, simply kept his eyes on the bay. “I cannot stop you from travelling the Seven Kingdoms but you do not step foot into King's Landing again.”  
“I'm not going to let Jon step a single foot into King's Landing without me being at his side, and you wanted him presented at court...Your Grace.” Arthur bit back, controlled but still bitter.

Robert nearly growled but Arthur knew he got him.

“Don't make the boy forget who his mother is, he's not just a Dayne, he's half Stark as well.” Robert then mentioned and Arthur had to grit his teeth even harder, “I will hate you for the rest of my life and you can be sure that nothing would make me happier than to see you on your _knees_ before me, looking up at me like he did, knowing the next blow will be the last.”

It was only Aurane suddenly grabbing his hand and Jaime appearing on Robert's other side that kept Arthur from doing something utterly stupid.

“We need to go, I want to be out on open sea when night falls.” Aurane announced, his fingernails digging into Arthur's wrist to ground him back down out of his anger. “I will return with the Redwyne fleet and your brother, Your Grace.” Robert grunted in reply and let Jaime lead him away, back towards the horses.

“One day, justice will come for him.” Aurane said and Arthur nodded, breathing out harshly.

One day.

And maybe it would even be Dawn to bring him justice.

And Arthur would not need more than one blow.

\--

Unaware of the tension that had settled between King and Arthur, Ashara had made her own goodbyes with Barristan.

“Write to me before you sail off to war, won't you?” She asked him softly, wanting to hold his hands or kiss him again but she knew she couldn't, not so out in the open with dozens of eyes on them. Her reputation be damned, she didn't care about that, but she cared about his.  
“I will and when I have returned, I'll write you again.” He promised her and then turned to his horse, reaching up to unstrap something from the side of the saddle. “Here, take this.” And he handed her a small package. “For the little ones. And you.”

“You didn't have...”

“I wanted to, so I did.” He interrupted her starting protests, his hand briefly touching hers, “I've got no family I can spoil, Shara. House Selmy, those people are strangers to me, so let me gift you and your little ones with something.” She smiled in gratitude, leaning up to kiss his cheek before catching sight of Aurane tugging her clearly tense brother onto the ship and the King walking back towards the horses.

“Take care of yourself, Barristan, I would not be able to lose another man I care about to a Rebellion.” She asked of him and he nodded, holding her gaze for a moment longer before he turned to face his king. Robert was red with surpressed anger and Ashara felt her face harden into a mask as she curtsied only briefly for him before saying goodbye.

She watched the King and Kingsguard ride back to the Red Keep while the crew readied the ship to get out onto the water, Aurane calling out commands in between whispering at her brother who was staring out of unfocused eyes at Aegon's High Hill. Ashara kept her gaze on the white cloaks of the Kingsguard until they were swallowed up by the city walls, and only then did she walk below deck to get to the small cabin she would have for herself.

The wrapped parcel was set to the side for just a moment while she took off her cloak and shoes and settled comfortably on the cot. Her fingers untied the ribbon and then pushed aside the cloth, gasping when she caught sight of the bright amethyst on the silver necklace, nestled into a white stone and Ashara actually found herself giggling when she held it up into the light of the oil lamp.

It was truly beautiful.

She set it aside only reluctantly but she was curious about what he had chosen for her children. A curled up roll of leather turned into a swordbelt when she pulled it out, something Barristan must have clearly worked on himself still in the last days because she had never seen something like it. Stars were stitched into the leather and 'Winter is coming' had been branded into the inner side, Torrhen would never want to take it off again.

He had even written a short note for him and she smiled over the little advice.

_'Never turn your back on your enemy and never underestimate them.'_

She set the belt to the side as well and then reached one last time into the brown cloth, her fingers curling around a delicate silver necklace, so thin that it was barely there. The small pendant on it was a white star with an emerald set into the middle.

“Oh, Barristan.” She sighed, feeling tears in her eyes as she looked at the gift for her daughter, something that even her father could have come up with. 

A knock on the door ripped her out of the moment and she grumbled as she placed her children's gifts back into the cloth before picking up her new necklace.

“Come in.” She said and the opening door revealed her now tired looking brother, “That bad?” She wanted to know and patted the place next to her on the cot. Arthur sighed and came over, sitting down heavily.  
“I'm fine.” He evaded talking about his emotions as he so often did and instead looked at the necklace in her hands, “Should I ask?” He gently prodded and still held out a hand so he might help her put it on.

“You can ask but be prepared that I will ask about Aurane in return.” She warned him and pulled her hair to the side, smiling when the pendant came to rest on her chest. Arthur mumbled something under his breath but didn't push any further, Ashara smirked to herself and leaned over to grab a looking glass from her chest.

\--

“Why?” Arthur whined when Aurane simply pulled harder on his hand, dragging him up the stairs onto the deserted deck. Only the First Mate stood behind the wheel and two sailors were fixing a torn rope at one of the sails, otherwise the ship was quiet.

Not surprising, it was the freaking dead of the night and Arthur had wanted to catch some actual resting sleep now where he was finally out of King's Landing again. Aurane dragging him out of bed and forcing him up on deck despite how beautiful the clear sky looked was not on Arthur's wishlist, really not.

“Because of that.” Aurane finally answered him and turned Arthur to look left, “I thought you might want to look upon it while we sail passed to get onto open sea.” Aurane spoke behind him still while Arthur walked right up to the railing, hands grasping onto the light wood as the moon and the light of millions of stars enlightened the castle high upon the island and on the other side the dark looming threat of the volcano.

“Dragonstone.” He whispered breathlessly, chest heavy with memories that assaulted his senses, he could almost taste the smell of the castle on his lips, that stone that always smelled a bit like fire and ash, like something burned.

The only place outside of Starfall where Arthur had ever dared to feel home.

“It still looks unchanged.” Aurane spoke up quietly as he came to stand next to him, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, “He can put up as many tapestries as he wants but he won't get those dragons out of the stones. The castle will not yield to stags.”  
“We won't either.” Arthur said without taking his eyes off of Dragonstone as they quietly sailed past the island.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and in the final chapter for this part of the series: Arthur and Co. return home to Starfall, Jon learns who his mother is and Aurane leaves for war


	7. Epilogue - A Welcome, A Promise Kept and a Goodbye

“Papa!”

It was the best and most beautiful thing his ears had heard in over two and a half moons as he jumped down the plank and turned around on the pier.

“Papa!”

Arthur laughed at the sight of pure energy barreling towards him, he caught the whirlwind of black locks and brown tunics that came jumping at him. “My little wolf, I got you back!” He called out and hugged Jon close, holding on maybe a little tighter than he usually did, but this trip had been exhausting. Physically and emotionally and he was more than just glad to be back home. “Oh, I missed you so much, Jon.”

“I missed you, too, Papa.” Jon grinned, bright and perfect, buzzing with energy and joy and only reluctantly almost leaned to the side to hug his aunt as Ashara walked down the plank before she hurried over to where Torrhen was holding Rhaena back from storming down the pier. Benjen ruffled his nephew's hair and then jogged up towards the docks where Allyria was waiting with Alysanne and gods she had grown so much. “I missed you so much, Papa.” Jon insisted and slung arms tight around Arthur's neck, and Arthur could have kept his face pressed into black curls forever.

Richard patted his shoulder and then tickled Jon before moving up towards the castle as well, glad to be back where he was welcome. 

Only when he heard steps stop behind him did Arthur set Jon down on the ground again, they would have so much time to cuddle and share stories of their adventures later. For now, he set a hand onto Jon's back and turned to face Aurane who was smiling down at Jon.

“Jon, this is Captain Aurane Waters. He is an old friend of mine, and he is my Uncle Lucerys' son.”

Jon hesitated for a moment, hand already half outstretched before something funny shifted over his face and he leaned closer a little, “I don't have to go on your ship, do I?” He asked then and Arthur bit his lip to keep from laughing over the truly horrified face of this little boy who thought the answer could be yes.   
“Not if you don't want to.” Aurane took that worry away though and crouched down, grabbing the hand that Jon stretched out then to shake it. “Don't like ships?”

“I like them when I'm not on them.” Jon replied with a witty little grin that had Aurane smirking before he straightened up again. Jon rocked back on his feet, “But your ship looks pretty. I don't wanna go on it but it looksreally good.” He cheekily explained and had Aurane laughing. Further up the pier, Arthur could see Rhaena embracing her mother tightly and Torrhen already speaking a mile an hour. Benjen was swinging Alysanne around while Allyria smiled at them.

“Well,” he drew the attention back to himself, “Aurane, this is Jon.” Arthur said quite uselessly but manners dictated it, and he smiled, at the grin Jon sent up to him and the fondness in Aurane's face as his friend looked down at Rhaegar's son. “Aurane was so polite as to sail us back from King's Landing so that Ashara and I were home faster than as if we had ridden back.”

“That was very kind of you, Captain.” Jon mentioned and grinned as he leaned against Arthur's legs, very much not intending to let go anytime soon, Arthur could only agree and brought a hand up to the back of Jon's neck.  
“Aren't you just the sweetest?” Aurane was almost gushing and Jon flushed, just like Arthur remembered it and by the stars, it felt so good to be back home. To be back, to know that it had all gone according to plan.

And more.

“Ask that again in a few hours once you met that beast of his.” Carral spoke up as he approached, one hand reaching out to ruffle Jon's hair which the boy took in begrudgingly, the other hand held out for Aurane to shake.  
“I told you not to touch her.” Jon pointed out in a shocking deadpan for a boy his age and rushed to straighten out his hair again, he must have either evaded Eyrin and her scissors or he had successfully convinced her to let it grow still. It more then ever looked like his hair couldn't decide in what direction to curl, it was neither Lyanna's gentle waves nor Rhaegar's thin ones, it was just chaos. “Torrhen told you not to touch her and you still did. It is your own fault that she bit you.”

“Meraxes bit you?”

“It wasn't her fault.” Jon quickly jumped to his friend's defense, glaring at Carral who raised both hands in an innocent gesture that looked fake on him even when it was true.  
“I didn't say that, now did I?” Arthur soothed the situation and Jon grumbled for a short moment under his breath, just long enough for Aurane's confusion to be noticed.

“Who is Meraxes?” He wanted to know, looking from one to the next, Arthur nudged Jon a little until he would do the job himself.  
“My lizard. I can show her to you but you can't touch her unless I tell you to.” Jon explained and then rushed ahead on the docks to go and properly welcome his aunt back as well, along with Benjen and Richard.

“He's got a pet lizard?” Aurane whisper-hissed at Arthur as they walked down the pier to get to the staircase leading up to Starfall. “Arthur, if anyone...”  
“What will they think?” Arthur quietly demanded of him, “That a little kid named his lizard after a dragon of old? If anyone ever hears then they'll think I told him one too many dragon stories, and no one will be surprised.” He waved it off but Aurane grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“I wasn't exactly protesting the name!” He argued and Arthur sighed before shaking his head, disregarding whatever danger or risk Aurane might be seeing in a foreign unusual pet.  
“He grew up in Volantis for five years, different customs, different pets. Be happy Torrhen never got that elephant.” He pointed out and Aurane playfully scoffed at him.

And summoned like foul magic, Torrhen appeared at his right leg and stretched out a hand towards Aurane, “Torrhen Sand, it's an honor to meet you, Captain Aurane. Thank you for bringing my mother and my uncles back home.” He said all proper and polite, though Arthur could see those eyes twinkling with something again already. The moment the boy would see his gift from the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard that chest would never recover from the proud swell and they would never get to hear the end of it.

Thanks for that, Barristan. 

“A little charmer, hm?” Aurane guessed, shaking the offered hand and Arthur snorted in amusement, took one to know one, he thought as he watched how Torrhen smirked before he let go of Aurane's hand and stretched up both arms towards Arthur. Charmer but also still nephew. Arthur picked him up and hugged him tight.  
“A little troublemaker.” He decided to give Torrhen a name himself and Torrhen smirked only brighter, “You've been good for Uncle Andric?”

Torrhen nodded, jumping down from his arms again, “The very best, uncle.” He claimed and Arthur raised an eyebrow at him, he would believe that when he saw it.

\--

After greeting Allyria, Alysanne and Rhaena back, they moved up to the castle where Andric was only too happy to take his siblings back into his arms. Ashara was pulled into the castle by her children quickly, the notion of a gift making Rhaena and Torrhen too curious to stand outside and wait. Benjen and Allyria said goodbye for the rest of the day as well, wanting to be with their daughter and enjoying Benjen's return. Richard only wanted to sleep, which left Arthur back in the courtyard with Andric, Aurane and Jon once more leaning against his legs.

“Eyrin will be sorry she missed this, but her father wanted to see the children. His letters have been weird since the accident and Eyrin wanted to see how he was really doing.” Andric explained as he embraced Aurane briefly, “Don't go silent again so long. Your brother's ravens nearly started making a second nest here.” Andric joked and Aurane laughed. “But your move to send Uncle here, it was good and very much welcome. I'm still glad we didn't need it.” Aurane nodded and shared a long look with Arthur.

The moment was broken when Aurane suddenly yelped as he was plucked into the strong arms of a man with slowly greying hair in what had once been the same silver blond as his. “You bloody idiot.” Lucerys hissed while Aurane struggled to be released from the bear like grip of his father before giving in and sinking his forehead against his father's shoulder, “The next time you go more than a fortnight without a raven and I do not know any reason for it, I will send the Sea Dragon after you. Do you understand me, son?”

“If you let him breathe, he might.” Andric chuckled and earned himself a clock to the back of his head when Lucerys snapped out a hand. Hissing and glowering, Andric rolled his eyes and took a step back. Aurane finally managed to free himself and flattened his clothes again, he was about to speak up, to apologize Arthur guessed when another voice came before him.  
“You'll send a tiny fish after him?” Jon wanted to know in confusion, holding up two fingers to indicate the size of the small sea dragon fish he had been shown back when they had sailed for the Water Gardens.

Arthur laughed while Andric, Lucerys and Aurane blinked down at the boy with his brows drawn together. Picking him up and setting him on his hip, Jon's arms coming around his neck, Arthur kissed the top of his head.

“Not the fish, Jon. The Sea Dragon is a ship that belongs to House Velaryon, it is a frightful sight.” He explained over the understanding grins of Andric, Lucerys and Aurane, “Though Aurane certainly is afraid enough of dragon skulls, a true sea dragon would have him faint.” Lucerys and Andric bellowed their laughter while Aurane glared at him, “You might show him your books but hold his hand so he doesn't get too frightened.”

“I hate you, Arthur.”

Arthur though was too busy laughing and enjoying Jon's laughter at the same time.

It was good to be home.

\--

Tugging Jon into bed in the evening was the last thing Arthur needed to really realize that everything had worked out and that he was truly home again. Stroking Meraxes while Jon got changed out of his breeches, still talking about his weeks without him, Arthur was content to watch him. 

He had grown again, of course he had, and Benjen was definitely right, he was going after the dragon in him more when it came to appearance. Jon was going to grow taller than Lyanna, and there were not going to be any broad Stark shoulders, all lean and skinny. Arthur was glad Daynes didn't look that different from Targaryens in that aspect.

“Tyene promised to take me to see Oldtown when I'm older. Is that okay, Papa? I really wanna see the Citadel.” Jon chatted on merrily as he was finally dressed for bed and climbing over him to scurry under the blankets. Andric had told him in a brief moment before dinner that the kids had been mostly doing well but that Jon had had a lot of trouble sleeping, that Torrhen had often crawled into bed with him or Jon had come to Andric.

“When you're a little older, Tyene can definitely take you to see Oldtown. You can see all the places you want to see. Well...maybe not the capital, we'll wait with the capital.” Arthur told him and leaned down to tickle Jon when he saw the questions pop into violet eyes, “Sleep. Questions tomorrow, it's late.” Arthur chuckled in amusement and Jon nodded, giving a small yawn.

“I'm really happy you're back, Papa.” Jon smiled sleepily, face squished into the pillows as Meraxes climbed off from Arthur's thighs and crawled under the blanket to siddle up to Jon's side, loyal as always. Arthur bopped a finger against Jon's nose and smiled at him.  
“I'm very happy to be back as well, my little wolf.” He promised and he wouldn't go again so soon, not if he could help it. His place was with Jon.

Jon begged him closer then, “But Papa has to promise that he will not be mad at Uncle Andric,” he whispered and Arthur frowned.  
“Mad? Why would I be mad at Andric, Jon?” He wanted to know and Jon bit his lips before he quite obviously thought about what to say.

“I was flying, Papa.”

“What do you mean you were flying?” Arthur frowned and propped himself up so he could look down at Jon who in turn was only smiling at him. “Were you dreaming of flying?” Oh gods please no, don't let the boy get those kind of dreams.  
“No.” Jon protested and shook his head, smile turning a little sheepish, “I fell from the harbor wall down into the water. It was like flying, Papa.”

“You did...ANDRIC!”

\--

“It was an accident. He is fine and he didn't even grow scared of the harbor, all he does now is keep a healthy distance from the wall's edge.” Andric explained it all calmly and while peeling an orange in his favourite armchair, the one their father had always sat in when they had been children. The three older Dayne siblings had retreated to the family room with Aurane and Lucerys after the children had been put to bed and Arthur had gotten his screaming out of his system.

Arthur grunted and then sighed, he was sitting with Aurane on the settee by the windows, as a child he had liked to climb up on the back of it so he could look down at the Torrentine.

“So, King's Landing.” Lucerys changed the topic before Arthur could have caught his breath enough to start all over again, Jon had fallen from the harbor wall and to think that even if a letter had come, he couldn't have been home for weeks. “How did it really go?”  
“They want to legitimize Torrhen to use as leverage against Ned.” Ashara snapped and emptied her wine cup, “Jon Arryn says he would put him under Ned's trueborn children in the succession for Winterfell but those were not the words I heard. I will not have my children used to secure the crown the loyalty of the North.”

“Good decision.” Andric told her gently and turned his eyes onto his brother but Arthur stared hard at the ground before his feet, “Brother?”  
“I wrote you what his decision was before we set out from King's Landing.” He answered Andric after another short moment, Andric kept his gaze set on him so Arthur sighed, leaning back on the settee before dragging a hand over his face, “Robert's last words to me were painting a picture of how he would prefer to see me.” And he looked up, eyes locked with his brother's, “On my knees, looking up at him like Rhaegar did, knowing the next blow would be the last. I think that's a very good impression of how this trip has been.”

\--

“What was this place, Papa?” 

It was a question he had never really asked even if they had been at this hill countless of times before, just the two of them or with Torrhen or with Uncle Benjen. Jon had wondered over why it apparently held importance or value to his father, it didn't look like there was any value left to it.

The ruins of the old watchtower were a few hours ride North of Starfall, but calling it ruins was already overselling what this place had to offer. Some loose stones, a tree that looked like someone had been trying to cut it down and failed, some bushes and three steps of a stone staircase that led to nothing. 

He glanced over to his father who was as usual looking ahead as if he saw something that Jon couldn't see and he waited patiently for him to answer.

“This is a very important place for me, Jon. Some years ago, a watchtower stood here. It was called the Tower of Joy and you were born here.” His father replied a few seconds later and Jon furrowed his brows, staring ahead at the three steps, it was really difficult to imagine something to have ever stood here just a few years ago. His father laughed, “Aye, I know, hard to imagine, but your uncle went to great lengths to make sure not a stone would stand on the other anymore.” 

Those words confused Jon because they didn't make a lot of sense. Uncle Andric was always very focused on not wasting good things, preferred to have something repaired rather than bought new if it could, so why would be have a perfectly good watchtower ruined... But something else from what his father had said snapped back into his mind then, distracting him.

'I was born here? In a watchtower?'

His Papa had dismounted from his horse while Jon had been staring at the stone stairs as the only remaining ruins, he had seen other watchtowers in the area of course, they weren't exactly horrible places but they were simple and made for soldiers. Not for Ladies, and certainly not for babies.

“I can see those questions making you dizzy.” His Papa chuckled and took the pony's reigns from him so Jon could swing himself down. When his Papa had come to fetch him this morning from the training's yard to go riding with him and at the same time told Torrhen that he couldn't come along, Jon had known that it had been the day where his Papa would fulfull his promise.

Jon would learn about his mother.

Torrhen had complained at first but then unusually quick given in when Jon had mentioned that they would talk about his mother.

His Papa tied the horses to the pitiful little tree which always looked like it was too stubborn to die even if someone had obviously tried to do a good job at achieving that. Someday Jon would ask about it, but until then there were more important things. They sat down on the stairs and his Papa ruffled his hair, his smile was a little weird.

“I was born here?” Jon wanted clarified and his Papa nodded, looking around and finally Jon thought he understood his father's look in this place, he saw something else. Maybe even someone else. “Why was a I born in a watchtower?” He must have sounded as confused as he felt because his father laughed before he turned more serious again.  
“Your mother and I...we weren't in any position where we were allowed to marry each other, let alone have a child.” His Papa began to explain and Jon gaped at him. “Oh, don't look at me like that.”

“But...You're never doing anything wrong!”

His father laughed again but his face was a little pinched while he did it, “It honors me to hear you say that, but it's not true. I made mistakes and that's okay, it's always what you do after you made a mistake that defines a person. As it was, your mother was betrothed to someone else when we fell in love, and I wasn't meant to fall in love at all.” And his father heaved a deep sigh, “See, Jon, I don't just know Ser Barristan and Ser Jaime because I was friends with a Prince.” Jon immediately thought to the locket he didn't wear in the mornings because Torrhen – big meanie – had gone over to grab it when they sparred. “I was on the Kingsguard, Jon.”

Jon blinked.

Needed a moment to let that sink in.

“I met your mother on a grand tourney in Harrenhall. She had...” And there his Papa smiled and he looked like Uncle Andric did when he talked about Aunt Eyrin, “She had been riding in the joust, challenging some Lords, I'll tell you another time how that came to be, Benjen does the story better than me anyway. Only, the King we had back then, he didn't like mystery knights. Your mother refused to show her face because well, women outside of Dorne are not allowed to joust, so the King sent the Prince and his knights after her to have this knight found.”

“And you found her?”

That sounded like a song.

And not those terrible ones Ser Richard sang when he was too deep in his cups. Those ones made Jon's ears burn.

“I did.” His father told him with a smile, “I found her hiding her armor. When she saw me watching her, she didn't blush or stutter at all, she just held her chin up high in that sweat soaked tunic and breeches and demanded I help her. She was the bossiest girl I have ever met, and you know your aunts.” Jon snickered a little, his aunts could be very exhausting. “But she was also the kindest most beautiful girl I have ever seen, and she was so brave and full of courage.”

“And what happened then? Did you bring her to the King?”

“No.” His father said and Jon was gaping again, his father had not followed the orders given to him by his King, but then again he apparently hadn't otherwise Jon wouldn't be here right now. The Kingsguard vow was for your life and they swore off wives and children. “I was lucky, because I was best friends with the Crown Prince.”

Wait...Crown Prince...how many princes had his father known? 

“Rhaegar and I...” That name tickled something at the back of Jon's mind over something he had read in a book that Maester Darvin had snatched away quickly again but Jon couldn't recall it anymore, “We were as close as Torrhen and you are now. Rhaegar saw that I was put under a spell by your mother, a good spell, the kind that makes you happy. You know how that is like, don't you?”

Jon blushed all red and couldn't help it, quite convinced that even his feet would be red if he took off boots and socks.

“I thought we were talking about my mother and not Tyene.” He grumbled quietly and his father laughed, reaching down to nudge Jon's chin up again.  
“We are, let an old man try to explain to his little boy why he did what he did next.” His Papa told him and Jon leaned against one of his legs, looking up at him. “We met in the night, when I wasn't on duty and she could steal herself away from her older brothers. Rhaegar helped me, her little brother helped her. It was during one of those meetings that I learned she was betrothed to a man she didn't like. A man she dreaded to be wed to.”

“No girl or woman should marry someone they dread to be wed to.” Jon said and his father actually leaned over to kiss his head, eyes proud.  
“It is a good way of thinking, little wolf, unfortunately not a lot of people share that way of thought outside of Dorne. Girls and women have to do as their elders said and your mother's father had decided she was to marry a Lord. Even if your mother really didn't want to be a Lady. Your mother wanted to ride and learn how to fight.”

“So she was more like Obara and not like Tyene?” It wasn't that Jon did not like Obara, he liked all of Oberyn's daughters, but Obara could be...intense.  
“Good comparison. Yes, your mother was definitely more like Obara. Especially when we ran away together.” His father mentioned all casually and Jon stared at him, “We had help, support really. We wrote letters for a while, Prince Rhaegar helped me again, she got help from her little brother once more. And then an opportunity arose and we took it. We married in a big godswood like place near Harrenhall and then we came here.”

“Why?”

“Because we had to hide, it was all very secret and forbidden still, Jon. And very complicated, I'll explain that to you another time. When you're a bit older, it'll be a bit too much even for a bright boy like you.” His father explained and Jon accepted that, he knew there were a lot of things you had to grow older for to understand really. Like kissing on the mouth, Jon found the idea of that gross but the grown ups seemed to like it.

And there had been a war all over the kingdoms.

So maybe his father had just wanted his mother to be safe.

“Where is she now?” Jon wanted to know when the silence dragged on a little too long and his father continued to stare off into the distance...no, not off into the distance, towards the tree he had bound their horses to. “Papa?” He asked and touched his father's knee, jolting him out of wherever he had went with his head. 

“I'm sorry, my little wolf,” He began, one broad hand coming up to frame Jon's face, all gently, and somehow Jon already knew what would follow, one more puzzle piece falling into the picture in his head, “I'm sorry but your mother is dead.”

It hurt. Of course it did.

But then Jon remembered what Aurane had told him only last night when Torrhen had needled him into some stories before disappearing after the second one, leaving Jon alone with his Papa and Aurane in the godswood. Aurane's mother had brought him to his father, Uncle Lucerys, when Aurane had still been a babe, and then she had left, never to return because she hadn't been interested. 

So...wasn't dead better than knowing she didn't care? 

His father stroked a thumb over Jon's cheek and he looked up to him again, saw the sadness in his father's eyes that were so similar to Jon's by now. Quickly then, he got to his feet and wrapped his arms around his father's neck, hugging him because after all, Jon was not the only one who had lost his mother then.

His father breathed out a shaking sigh and then wrapped his arms around Jon as well, his head leaning against Jon's.

“Do you miss her?” He asked quietly then, fingers trying to do at his father's neck what Uncle Andric had done with him when Jon had been upset in the endless time that his father had been gone to the stupid capital. Jon had no idea if it was working but at least his father wasn't complaining.

“I miss her every day still, Jon.” His father whispered almost, “I miss the way she smiled, and the sound of her voice. I miss talking with her, sharing stories.” They pulled apart again and Jon hurried to wipe away the one tear that had fallen over his father's right cheek. “She loved you so much, in the very little time she had with you. The moons she carried you and the day she was able to hold you, see you. She loved her little wolf very much.”

“What was her name?” The words were out before Jon could stop them, something desperate pushing at his chest now, the need to have confirmed what he somehow already knew.

Aunt Ashara called Torrhen a wild wolf because of his father.

Uncle Benjen and Uncle Ned lost a sister in the war that had been fought against the Targaryens.

She had died in Dorne.

“Lyanna.” His father answered him and Jon's heart gave a heavy thud, “Her name was Lyanna Stark.” Jon grinned, a reaction that his father noted with a bright smile, “And you of course had that figured that already, didn't you? Stop being so smart.” He groaned and began to tickle Jon.  
“I didn't start guessing until today.” Jon insisted and wriggled away from his father's fingers, “I had thought my mother might have been related to the Starks, because of the nickname you have for me. I never really thought my mother could be Uncle Benjen's sister. Lyanna.” He let the name roll off his tongue, “That is a pretty name.”

'Lord Stark asked me to call him Uncle Ned because he is my uncle, not just Torrhen's and Alysanne's.'

Well, that was making a whole lot more sense now.

“It's for her that you call me little wolf.” Jon pointed out and his father smiled before nodded, “I'm half Stark, half Dayne. Like Torrhen and Alysanne. Now I really want to go to Winterfell.”  
“She has a statue in the crypts.” His father explained and Jon's eyes went wide, he knew they did, he would get to pay his respects to his mother, he would get to kneel in front of the heart tree of Winterfell and pray in the same place she had as a child.

He would get to see Robb again and he would get to call him cousin and not his friend.

“Can you tell me more about her?”

\--

Jon's loud laughter when Arthur told him about Lyanna pushing him into the dirt after a sparring session here at the tower soothed the light ache in his heart more than any word ever could. And for just a moment as he watched Jon climb up a rock while thinking about more questions, it was like he could see Rhaegar and Lyanna standing by the horses.

His arms around her, both of them smiling. Smiling at them. Approving.

“Can I tell others about her? About my mother?” Jon asked when he was balancing on top of the large rock that Oswell had always claimed to sit on for watch. Arthur got to his feet and walked over to him, feeling lighter than he had in six whole years.  
“You can tell anyone you like about her, Jon, it's not a secret.” He assured him, stiffening his arms when Jon swayed a little, but Jon caught himself immediately again, “In fact I could swear to you your Uncle Benjen would be more than just happy to tell you everything he knows. Lyanna was his best friend.”

Jon stretched out his arms with a bright grin and an even louder giggle when Arthur picked him up and spun him around.

“Can we ride back soon? I'm getting hungry and I wanna find Torrhen.” Not surprising at all, the first reaction Torrhen had had after Ashara had told him about his father was to find Jon, too.  
“Yeah, we can ride back. You okay, Jon?” He needed to ask, he just needed to hear it, Jon's face turned all serious and he leaned forward in Arthur's arms until their noses were touching.

“Yes.”

Said will full conviction.

Arthur smiled and kissed his forehead before he walked over to the horses, he set Jon onto his pony and then made to unbind them.

“Papa?” Jon called him back when Arthur had already turned to swing himself upon his own horse, he turned around again and stepped closer when Jon held out a hand. “Thank you for telling me. I love you very much, Papa.” Arthur swallowed and leaned down, hugging his little wolf tight.

“And I love you, too, Jon. I'll always love you, my little wolf.”

\--

Arthur knew that something had happened the moment they rode back into the courtyard of Starfall, Andric was waiting on the stairs with Ashara and Aurane. 

Jon thankfully ran off to find Torrhen once the horses were taken care off, no doubt wanting to tell him about his mother. Arthur watched after him for a moment before he walked over to his siblings and Aurane.  
“How did he take it?” Andric wanted to know, nudging his head towards the castle entrance to have Arthur follow him.

“Good.” Arthur told his brother, “He's sad of course that his mother is dead but he is happy to know about her now. I have no doubt more questions will come about her soon. What happened, brother?” As much as he wanted to have a moment to himself and breathe, Arthur knew he wouldn't be able to rest until Andric had spoken whatever had Ashara, Aurane and him look so tense.

“Willem Darry is dead. And Viserys and his sister disappeared.”

“How can they disappear?” Arthur pushed into the unknown, frowning at all three, “I thought Varys has them watched...wait, how do you know this?” Andric nodded to Aurane who produced a small letter from inside his sleeve, reeking so much of perfume that it was already obvious who had written it, “Varys?”

“According to Varys, someone took them not a two days after Darry was dead. There is no sign of them, not even for Varys.”

\--

“We're cousins.” Jon called out happily as he followed Torrhen up the old letter to get to the hayloft above the stables where they crawled through the small tunnel to get to their secret hide out. A cave made in old unused hay, laid out with a blanket and several outsorted pillows and trinkets.

“That's not something new. My Mama's your Papa's sister.” Torrhen pointed out in confusion and flopped down on his back, eying Jon with a raised eyebrow. Jon knelt down and poked a finger into Torrhen's ticklish waist.  
“That's not what I meant, silly. We're double cousins.” Jon told him and Torrhen sat up again, surprised now, “My Mama is...was Lyanna Stark, your Papa's sister.”

“That's why Uncle calls you little wolf!You're half Stark, too!” Torrhen cheered and they grinned at each other, “And Uncle Ned is really your uncle!” And then Torrhen's face suddenly fell, Jon could already tell what his mind must have realized then. Torrhen bit his lips for a moment, eyes a little sad, “But...my father's sister...Lady Lyanna died in the Rebellion, just like my father.”

“I know.” Jon nodded, worrying the hem of his tunic between his hands, he would have wished it different of course. But it was still better maybe than to have a mother like his uncle Aurane did, one who remained out there without ever giving her son a way to find her or let him know that she was alright, one who didn't really care. Torrhen pulled him into a hug that got tightened until Jon had to pound against his back to be released before he suffocated.

“I'm sorry, Jon.”

“No, it's okay. I know that she loved me, Papa said so, and she was the one who named me. For a King of Winter. Jon Stark, he built the Wolf's Den and protected the North from Andal invaders that came from the sea.” Jon recalled what his father in turn had learned from Jon's mother. Torrhen scowled all playfully, he had been happy indeed when Jon had told him that there was a King in the North who bore his name after Jon had read it in a book.

Only to soon have that excitement die a little when Jon had then proceeded to tell him that Torrhen Stark had been the last King in the North and was known as the King Who Knelt. 

_'Well, I won't be kneeling for anyone.'_   
_'He didn't kneel for just anyone either, it was Aegon the Conquerer and he had Balerion the Black Dread standing behind him.'_   
_'Then I shall not kneel for anyone unless dragons magically reappear and bond themselves to some King.'_

“And Papa said he'll tell me stories when I want them, and that I can ask Uncle Benjen, too. And when we go to Winterfell, I can visit her statue in the crypts. We can go together.” Jon cashed in a few nods from Torrhen and then spluttered when Torrhen wrestled him down so they laid side by side on the blanket, Edric's forgotten wooden horse digging into Jon's hip.

“We'll do everything together.” Torrhen agreed and then grinned at him, “And now tell me everything.” He pleaded even though he never actually used the word for it.

\--

“Don't.” Arthur was quick to say as Aurane made to open his mouth, “Please don't make any promises right now. Don't tell me you'll come back. Don't tell me it's gonna be alright.” Aurane's face shuttered away from the small smile and his eyes clouded over the smugness he had worn since Arthur had knocked on his door in the middle of the night.

His last night in Starfall for who knew how long.

“Arthur...”

“No, please don't.” Arthur repeated and turned onto his back, Aurane effortlessly shifting along with him so they were still looking at each other. “I'm a Knight. I swore to protect and fight. And now there is another war and I can't do anything for the people I care about.”

He couldn't protect his friends. And whatever Aurane was now as well.

He couldn't fight side by side with them.

Aurane closed his eyes, briefly but when he opened them again he was steeling himself for a conversation that Arthur shouldn't have started the second they had caught their breaths.

“I've fought in battles before, Arthur. On sea and on land. I've fought battles against Ironborn before, I know what I need to expect. You remember the story about my first trip to Essos?” Aurane wanted to know, tracing a finger over Arthur's chest.  
“What were you? Ten?” Arthur tried to remember and Aurane nodded, “Jace got into trouble with some Tiroshi in Pentos and the man chased after you with his ship til you reached the Stepstones. At which point Jace had enough and confronted the man with his blade.”

“That was my first battle. I knocked out three Tiroshi sailors with a barrel of wine.” Aurane recalled with a grin, Arthur rolled his eyes, “Father was furious when he heard later, refused to let me go on any greater trips with Jace again. Jace only told me I did good and gave me the shorter one of his Valyrian daggers. I never had any great knights to teach me how to wield a sword, no Warrior reborn to train with me.” Arthur shoved at him for the cheek but Aurane merely grinned, “All I know about fighting I learned from Jace and whatever you tried to knock into me in proper stance and weird twists and turns, but it never failed me before. And it won't fail me this time either.”

“I never thought I'd get sick of it. Fighting.” Arthur admitted quietly as Aurane laid down again, head against his shoulder, one arm around his waist. “Once upon a time I thought people who only showed their swords at tourneys were weak, worthless, no true knights. And now I would give so much to only hear about fake fighting at tourneys.” He sighed and closed his eyes.

“You're not sick of fighting. You're tired of being left behind and I understand it, but we can't change it, Arthur, just as much as we can't change that this Rebellion got started and that the crown wants it ended.” Aurane spoke quietly and softly, “I've got a good crew and my priority task is gonna be to make sure no Ironborn ship gets away while the Royal forces attack. And Lord Stark, Jaime and Barristan, they are good fighters.”

Arthur sighed once more and then reached for Aurane's hand, turning his face to the side so he could see his face once more, catch his eyes. “I won't ask, and I don't want you to say those words...Just...When you come back, we'll figure out the key's secret?” He offered up a compromise in lack of any real promises.

He couldn't do it.

If one more person told him 'I will come back' before riding off to war, he was not going to be able to cope with it.

“Sounds good.”Aurane told him and pushed closer to steal a kiss, “I'll roam the library on Driftmark when I return from Pyke, maybe there is a book or two with old texts.”

\--

“Should I ask?”

“You can ask.” Arthur told his brother as they stood side by side on the pier and watched both Velaryon ships take off, the impressive Lord of Tides looking like a kitchen drab next to the Pride of the Sea in the bright sunlight. “But you will not get an answer from me.” He made clear how he stood on the topic that Andric was poking at. “Try and get Ashara to talk about Barristan.”

“That's too easy. I asked her yesterday and spent the next two hours learning things about the man's eyes that I never wanted to know.” Andric grouched and Arthur laughed, all with head thrown back and closed eyes. His stomach was still churning with the thought that Aurane was only fetching the Redwyne fleet before sailing North to join the Royal fleet at Dragonstone.

Join them for war.

Lucerys was sailing back to Driftmark, wanting to be as close to the war as possible to hear news.

“Alright, so let me say this then.” Andric turned to face him, “I'm happy over whatever it may be. You deserve to have some happiness. And he'll come back.” Arthur twitched and set his eyes onto the boys who were swinging Rhaena between them not far from them. “He's waited fourteen years to have you, he's not gonna let a war stop him from enjoying it now. And to divert your thoughts somewhere else. I got a letter from Harrenhall, Oswell's cousin asks if you want the shield.”

“The...” Arthur whirled around to look at Andric, ships and wars forgotten, “Lyanna's shield? They kept it all these years?”  
“A piece like that? With all the drama surrounding it? Of course they did, I am begging you, Arthur, how many times did you stare at the dagger in the armory that then Prince Maekar forgot here while visiting his wife's home? You hold onto history pieces like that.” Andric drew the picture for him, “He's also asked if you would take one of his younger sons as a squire but I am thinking of asking Richard or Benjen instead.”

“It really worked out well, didn't it?” Arthur asked as if he still couldn't believe it, Andric chuckled and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.  
“It did, little brother. You're pardoned by the crown, Jon is protected as a trueborn son of House Dayne and the realm still loves you. Tywin Lannister is dead and Lord Tyrion has already written back and forth with Doran, though I do not know about what.”

“There are still a lot of people that I want to see come to justice in these kingdoms.” Arthur began quietly as they walked back to the children, “But knowing that Tywin Lannister died a frightened skeleton of a pitiful man, well, it certainly makes me sleep better at night. And knowing that he knew the truth in the end, that he died knowing the whole rebellion had been a lie. That despite all the horrible things he had done, Rhaegar's blood lives on and it is his family brought to near ruin.”

“You didn't think it was a risk? That he could have told anyone?” Andric wondered and swept Rhaena up into his arms so the boys could storm off. Torrhen's new swordbelt was worn proudly and the little note was pinned to the wall of his room. Jon had gone slackjawed when Arthur had presented him with the small dragon skull Aurane and him had taken from the tunnels below the Keep, no one would miss it and Jon for sure would appreciate it more than anyone in King's Landing.

Barely bigger than a cat's head, the dragon skull had been placed on a window sill after Jon had measured out everything on it. The only one who did not look so enthused about the new addition was Meraxes.

“I made sure Tywin wouldn't tell anyone.”

“How?” Andric asked and stopped at the beginning of the stairs, Jon and Torrhen were already almost up the stairs to the castle.  
“By being Dornish.” Arthur smiled and began to tickle his niece, smiling over Rhaena's loud giggles as he glanced over to his brother's questioning eyes, “I broke him.”

And now, Tywin Lannister was rotting in seven hells.

And they were happy.

\--

_“I know you hate me. I never for even a moment pretended not to have realized it. You hated that your son was knighted by a dirty Dornish, a second son from a minor House. I had the honor, the skill, the deeds to my name, but I didn't have that, a great name you could boast about. Oh, how you must have hated it, the son of the great golden lion kneeling in the dirt of a battlefield with a sword on his shoulder, not the grandeur of a throne room._

_And then it had only started, hadn't it? Jaime was knighted and still refused to return to the Rock, he wanted to remain in King's Landing, he wanted to learn from men you despised. He wanted to be like me. How you must have been frothing at the mouth when Aerys offered Jaime the Kingsguard position, when Ser Gerold laid that white cloak over his shoulders. I couldn't have been prouder of him but you, you would only see shame brought to your house, an heir taken away by a mad king._

_I have never seen Jaime happier than on that day. He wore the white cloak with so much pride, that happiness to belong, to have found brothers who did not cower in front of his name. We gave Jaime a place, we accepted him for who he was, not for what he could be. Jaime was my brother and I was proud of him._

_These last six years, you tried to ruin all we achieved. Your expectations, your disappointment, your shame, your judgement. Piece by piece you tried to chop him away, but Jaime didn't break. He endured, and it's you that's gonna break now, Tywin._

_It was Jaime who told Jon Arryn about your plans. It was Jaime who told Jon Arryn about your vile daughter cuckholding the King. It was Jaime who ended your family's glory, Jaime who cut your power. And you wanna know why he did it?_

_He did it for a little girl he loved to see smile and laugh. For a babe he never got to see doing the same. He did it for a Princess he admired for her strength. He did it for a Prince who would have been proud to have him in his Kingsguard._

_He did it for the brothers he lost to a war that was built on a fucking lie. He did it for the brothers he didn't lose, the brothers who were always more his family than his own blood could claim to be. He talked because he had heard I lived and he got the courage to stop following and instead lead again. He chose right over easy. He chose White over Gold._

_And now you sit down here and the son you hate sits in Casterly Rock as its new Lord, and he will bring honor back to House Lannister, just like Jaime will bring honor back to himself._

_And after you lose your head in a fortnight, I will still be there and I will raise my cup on the very same day and toast to a future of the Seven Kingdoms who will no longer have to fear a toothless yapping lion. And when I help Oberyn Martell kill Amory Lorch and Gregor Clegane I will think of the justice for Rhaenys, Aegon and Elia, and I will enjoy it._

_Just like I enjoy raising Rhaegar's and Lyanna's trueborn son as mine own. He is a smart little boy who values honor and fair justice very much. Maybe one day he will decide that he wants what he was born to have, and if that day comes, I have no doubt that Jaime will only too gladly fight for Fire and Blood again. And if I have to kill Robert Baratheon to give my son what is his and only his to claim, then I will have them call me Kingslayer as well and I will be proud of it just like I made Jaime be proud of his acts._

_I hope you die in pain, Tywin, in terrible agonizing pain because you deserve it. And I hope even more that wherever you go then, you will get to watch how people forget you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another plot heavy fic done. Jon knows who his mother is now, yayy.  
> After some Oneshots, some of them filler ones for things mentioned in a line or two, one a heavy plot heavy kind of oneshot (*coughs* the key's secret *cough*) and then in the next longer story we are going to WINTERFELL and the Wall. So many direwolves are coming for so many Stark children.


End file.
